From the End to the Start
by Romantic Silence
Summary: Hermione had always been by Harry's side, but her death stopped her. She is given the chance to rewrite her past and right all her wrongs. She will do whatever is necessary to ensure his survival, but there are some things you simply can't plan for.
1. Chapter I

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note:** What can I say? I write what my muse tells me to, and I absolutely love writing stories from Hermione's POV. I still need to rework the outline of my other time-travel fic, so I'm not sure when the next chapter for that would be up. Fortunately, **A Moment to Reflect **will have a new chapter soon. Anyway, this came to me after reading a Portkey story where Hermione goes back in time. Unfortunately, the story only had 3 Chapters and hadn't been updated in years. So, I decided to write my own. Also, unlike my other stories, the romance would be gradual and I will focus on the close relationship Hermione and Harry shares. Don't worry, there won't be traces of Hermione/Ron.

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter I**

Hermione kept her eyes firmly on malice personified, Bellatrix Lestrange, who gave her a sickeningly sweet smile that reminded Hermione of a certain toad of a woman. Her eyes were brimming with delight and hatred, her gaunt cheeks having a rosy hue, no doubt that this abomination of a woman felt ecstasy in the torment and death of others. Hermione knew firsthand how the vile Death Eater reveled in the pain of whom she thought as lesser. After all, she had the scars to prove it. Her wand was raised, her arm extended forward and her legs planted firmly on the ground; taking on the stance that Harry had taught her years prior.

The thought of Harry brought a wave of despair and anger that nearly consumed her if her focus hadn't been on the battle. Hermione had been the one who had cried out dismally when the Death Eaters arose from the forest and forced Hagrid to drop Harry's lifeless corpse onto the earth. His prone form, devoid of anything that made Harry who he was, became a brutal reminder that she had _failed_. Bellatrix and Voldemort were not the most wretched things she had ever seen or heard of, she, Hermione Granger, was the most foulest, most repulsive, and cruelest creature that ever existed and given freedom to roam the Earth. Hermione had failed Harry because he with two recent years of memories that portrayed her as a terrible friend.

She had betrayed him. It all began that summer before Sixth Year. She cared more for the results of her O.W.L.s than speaking to Harry about the death of Sirius. How could she have believed that stupid test scores were more important than caring for a friend? Then when Harry told them the prophecy, Hermione knew she feared for Harry's life, but what she feared more was the pain and loneliness that she would suffer if Harry was gone. She was _selfish_. Hermione began distancing herself from Harry, never trusting him to actually succeed despite what she said to assure him. Then once school began, Hermione acted like a teenage brat. She should have used all that time preparing for the war. She could have looked up spells for Harry to use. She should have…should have…she should have spent more time with Harry. She should have just enjoyed life with Harry.

She should have given Harry something to live for.

Now, Harry was gone. No more of his charming laughter filling up the room at night. No more of his constant annoyance over his untamable hair. No more of his warm smile and worried eyes. Hermione had one true friendship in the world, and she knew she had ruined it with her own greed and selfishness.

"Oooh! Ickle Harrikins is dead filthy Mudblood! He won't be coming to save you now!" Bellatrix taunted cruelly.

Hermione hardly responded to the taunt and cast a silent stunner with a violent wave of her wand. The older witch had far superior combat experience than she had and responded with a shield charm. Bellatrix laughed mockingly as she cast an unknown curse back at Hermione. She dodged, the sickly yellow bolt nearly grazing her. Hermione glared back at Bellatrix, sadness and cool ire impeding her from having the upper hand.

_Come on Hermione, keep it together!_ Hermione chided in her head. She knew she had to grab a hold of herself or else she too would be amongst the fallen. But, the odd part was, Hermione couldn't bring herself to care whether she lived or died. It scared her.

"Hermione!"

"Expelliarmus!"

A red bolt of magical energy was fired at Bellatrix's location. The surprise caused the Death Eater to growl in annoyance, but easily dodged it nonetheless. Before long, Luna and Ginny had taken to standing beside her, their determined faces detailing their motives and reason. A wicked smiled adorned Bellatrix's face as she yelled out, "Blood traitors! How nice of you to join us! AVADA KEDAVRA!"

A bright green light was shot from the tip of her wand. Hermione moved to dodge the Unforgivable but her eyes were locked on the frozen form of Ginny. She stood completely still, fright having overcome her. Realization dawned on her that Ginny was the target of the curse and knew that if Ginny didn't move, she would be struck and rendered dead. Hermione knew that she couldn't let Ginny die. She had family who loved and cared for her. Her parents were gone and had no memory of her entire existence. She had to save her.

Hermione sprinted the small distance between her and Ginny. Once she got close enough, Hermione shoved the petite Weasley from her position. She watched in satisfaction as Ginny tumbled down to the ground and into safety. Hermione turned to face Bellatrix and saw the bright light speeding towards her.

"HERMIONE!"

The last thing Hermione thought she heard was Harry's voice calling out to her.

.

.

.

Everything was white, pure white.

_Where am I?_ Hermione wondered. Her eyes roamed the design of the building she was in and noticed the railway tracks not too far away. The arches and columns were abundant as it led to more areas too far for her to see. She realized that she was sitting on a bench, the same color as the rest of the area she was in. She felt like she had been here before. There was a warmth of familiarity that resonated from this strange place. The color and silence that filled the area created a tranquil ambience that left her peaceful rather than fretting with worry.

Her mind finally formulated the pieces of the puzzle she saw and realized where she was in, _King's Cross Station? But how?_ She recollected what she last remembered and the result left her to resign sadly, _That's right. Bellatrix cast the Killing Curse and struck me. I'm dead._

Then it finally sunk in. She was dead. Hermione had given her life to protect Ginny. Hopefully, the rest of the side of light was able to triumph over Voldemort. But still, she was no longer alive. The impact of her plight weighed heavily down upon her, but she took comfort in the fact that at least Ginny was alive and that everyone had a chance to finally get rid of the most powerful Dark Lord since Grindelwald. In a testament of her strength, Hermione smiled brightly and held hope in her heart.

"You really are brave as Harry says you were." A kind voice spoke to the right of her.

Hermione turned to the direction of the voice and her eyes widened in shock. A beautiful woman with long red hair that could be described as enchanting and calm, unlike the Weasleys' red hair where one would describe it as 'fiery', stood by the bench gazing at her warmly with the piercing green eyes Hermione came to associate with her best friend.

_Lily Potter_. Hermione sat there with her mouth agape, unable to utter a single word from her lips, a rare feat considering her character. If there was any doubt that she was dead before, they were all gone now. This woman, a woman who looked no older than her early twenties, had been dead for nearly two decades. And now, it appeared, Hermione was about to have a conversation with her.

"May I sit Hermione, oh, can I call you that?" Lily asked, her cheeks flushed with mild embarrassment.

Hermione fervently nodded her head, "O-of c-course Mrs. Potter!"

Harry's mother let out a lighthearted chuckle and waved her hand dismissively, "None of that. Just call me Lily dear."

The two fell into a companionable silence. Hermione's thoughts were clouded with confusion as to why Lily had come to her. She didn't know what to say, or what to do even. Hermione always viewed the mother of her best friend as a true hero. She had willingly sacrificed her life to save her son, and that was something that so few would have been able to do. Tentatively, she asked, "If I may Lily, why are you here?"

"I came here to thank you, to thank you for always looking after my Harry when I couldn't. He had always been besotted by you, and you were always a loyal friend to him when others left." Lily replied, the sincerity of tone so easily identified with the way she had looked at her with such expressive eyes.

Hermione's shoulders sagged and she easily felt the guilt weighing down on her once again, "No. I hadn't been a good friend to him in two years. I was afraid to lose him, so I pushed him away. Even when we were alone in the tent, I still continued to distance myself from him even though I knew how much he wanted to comfort me. Then, he died. And I knew then how much I failed him." Her body began to tremble as tears began to fall. In grief, she cried, "I don't deserve your thanks Lily. He was my best friend and I just turned him away! He died knowing how terrible of a friend I had become!"

As Hermione sobbed, she felt Lily's arms wrap around her in a warm embrace. She heard Lily gently whisper, "Harry didn't think that. He thought of you the best friend one could possibly have. Harry lived Hermione. The Horcrux within him was destroyed and he was free to end Voldemort's reign forever."

"Harry's alive?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"Yes. He witnessed you falling to Bellatrix."

Hermione brought her hand to her mouth and gasped, "Oh _Harry_!"

Lily nodded sadly and sighed heavily, "He was heartbroken. In his rage, he not only defeated Voldemort and Bellatrix, but killed them as well."

"And what of the others?"

"Ginny lived. You saved her life after all. And many of your friends also survived the battle. Everyone was quite shaken with your death, but none more so than Harry."

"What do you mean?"

"Here, in this place," Lily swept her hand across the station, "Time is fleeting. We could sometimes see a glimpse of the future and what it holds."

"But Harry is happy right? I mean, he has the love of his life alive. I'm sure he and Ginny married and he finally got the family he always longed for. I'm sure that he may have been depressed for a while that I was gone, but at least he would get over it with time."

Lily mournfully shook her head, "I wish that was true. But Hermione, you fail to recognize your importance in my son's life. Yes, he did marry Ginny and started a family with her, but your death changed him forever. Though he lives, he doesn't enjoy the life he has."

"But what can I do?" Hermione said quietly, "I'm already dead."

"That's why I'm here. I can't explain much, but it was decided that you were going to be given a second chance."

A shocked expression filtered onto Hermione's face. A myriad of emotions mixed and mashed inside her, making her unable to process. Yes, Hermione was overjoyed that she was able to live once again, but that pleasant feeling gave way to confusion and guilt. She was confused as to why she was given this second chance and felt guilty that she, of all people, did not deserve it. There were a lot of regrets that Hermione had based over the decisions that she had made, but they were petty in the grand scheme of things. She was unimportant to the universe, and that was fine with her. But…

_I'm important to Harry._

Her decision was made, and she gazed determinedly at Lily. She spoke, her voice filled with resolve with no doubt evident, "I'll do it."

Lily beamed and hugged the younger girl one more time, "Hermione, don't ever be afraid of pain and hardship. In the end, it could be worth it. Do what is right, not easy."

"I know that now."

Suddenly, the pure white world that she had come to find began to slowly fade into fine mist. Even Lily, with her kind face seemed to slowly dissolve into nothingness until there was nothing left. The bench she sat on soon disappeared which left her standing. She felt fear grip her for a single moment as Hermione knew not what was happening, but an unknown feeling entered her and allowed her to accept what was going on. Before long, even the floors seemed to vanish from beneath her feet and she started to fall. There was nothing of existence but her as she seemed to float in an infinite loop.

Seconds seemed like hours, hours seemed like weeks, and weeks seemed like years. Never in her mortal body had she felt a great expanse of everything and nothing. Hermione tried to ignore those thoughts in favor of reflecting upon all that had happened throughout her years in Hogwarts. She remembered vividly the intimacy that she had with Harry throughout most of their school career. But all that seemed to have been lost completely during Sixth Year. A memory entered her forethought that made her heart ache.

She and Harry were arguing over the stupid book and Harry's suspicions over Malfoy. Hermione recalled having not cared at all for what Harry thought and believed him to be simply mad. Instead of carefully considering what Harry had to say, her mind was filled with ways of attracting Ron and overcoming the pain of pursuing him. Her heart clenched when their argument ceased and the two of them storming off in a fit of anger. She remembered slowly looking behind her to catch a glimpse of Harry stubbornly stomping away with his head held high, but instead, she was treated to the sight of Harry limping away like a wounded animal, his shoulders slumped in pure dejection.

That was when she knew that she and Harry's relationship would never be the same. In her selfishness, Hermione destroyed the truest friendship she could ever hope to have. That was her biggest regret.

* * *

><p>Hermione shot up with a jolt. Suddenly, a constricting stinging pain from the center of her chest weaved its way throughout her body. Her body fell back from the ache, her head hitting a soft pillow. The agony continued, making her cry out softly whenever it hurt too badly. She clutched the spot where it originated from and felt the beat of her heart racing. Hermione found it hard to breathe as she had to pant heavily to get the necessary intake of oxygen that her body seemed to crave. She felt hot, but sweat from her pores caused by her episode slowly cooled her off. Finally, the pain subsided, but Hermione winced whenever she tried to move a part of her body.<p>

"H-hermione?" Croaked a familiar voice to the side of her.

Hermione carefully began to examine her surroundings to better understand where she was. It was dark, but the pale moonlight from outside made it bright enough for her to recognize where she lay. Hermione saw the recognizable bed that belonged to the Hogwarts Infirmary along with the curtains above her that closed her off from seeing anything further. She wondered where the voice came from but as she looked down towards her hands, Hermione realized that she had just now felt her firm grip clutch on to another hand that didn't seem to be attached to a body.

A rustle of movement was heard, and she saw Harry removed his father's invisibility cloak and setting it on the chair he stood up from. She couldn't see a clear look of him in the darkness, but Hermione recognized the clear outline of a worried frown settling over his lips.

"Harry? Is that you?" She asked, her voice sounded forced as if she hadn't had water in a while.

"Ssh, don't speak Hermione." Harry softly spoke as he reached over and gently removed a strand of hair from her eyes, "You were hurt. Dolohov hit you with a spell. I-I thought you were g-gone." His voice cracked but he continued, "You were right. It was a trap. I-I should have listened to you, because now, Sirius is gone and, you were almost taken from me too. I'm sorry Hermione, I'm so sorry."

Though her body ached, Hermione removed her hand away from Harry and carefully cupped his cheek. In a hoarse whisper, Hermione said, "It's not your fault."

"But –"

"Ssh, it's not your fault."

It was then that Harry began to cry. He fell to his knees and wept on bed nearest to her. Hermione gently ran her fingers through his hair, the slow, deliberate movement seemed to comfort him somewhat as his cries gradually calmed down.

Hermione thought back to the meeting with Lily and wondered if it had all been a dream. It had seemed so real yet vague at the same time. But she couldn't deny the two years' worth of memories that occupied her brain. Even if dreams could have been so realistic, surely it was impossible to have dreamt up her Sixth Year and the Horcrux hunt. How could she have known what a Horcrux was if she didn't learn it until a year later? The only logical conclusion she could come up with was that everything she had experienced _was_ real.

Then, from what Harry had said, she was back in her Fifth Year, in the aftermath of their foray into the Department of Mysteries. The wound inflicted upon her by Dolohov was still fresh, hence the mild pain that shot up from her now and then. Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey had managed to do the necessary healing required or else the pain would have been truly worse.

But what was already different was Harry's presence in the Hospital Wing. She remembered having slept for days, her body trying to recover from the damage done to it. When she came to, Harry always visited, but always remained vacant and distant. He had bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and she thought then that he was up all night thinking of Sirius. Was the true reason for Harry's distant behavior and tired face was his guilt and worry over her injury? Hermione knew she and Harry never spoke about what happened to her. Was the reason they talked about it now was because Harry hadn't the chance to close himself off just yet? It was possible. Still, thinking that, it made her feel even guiltier about how she treated him in Sixth Year.

Harry finally composed himself and he stood back up to the position over her bed. Hermione saw the worried glance cast at her and decided to ease his nerves by intertwining her fingers with his. Harry moved closer, this time the moonlight shining on his face. Dark bags were already beginning to form underneath his eyes. Troubled, Hermione said, "Harry, have you been sleeping?"

Harry shook his head, "I-I couldn't. Madam Pomfrey was worried you could have relapsed and I…"

"Say no more." Hermione smiled at him reassuringly, "I will be fine, but you need to promise me you would get some sleep."

"But –"

Hermione shot him a stern glance, "Madam Pomfrey has already treated me, and I can assure you that I would be fine. You, on the other hand, need rest. I promise you that you can come back later and talk to me. Okay?" She wanted to bring up Sirius, but she felt that it would be too soon and would not help her with what she intended Harry to do.

Harry's eyes narrowed, a sign that he was in thought. Finally, he let out a sigh and nodded, "Alright." Harry took the invisibility cloak from the chair he set it upon and placed it over his body. Before he placed it over his head to make him completely invisible, he turned to Hermione one last time, "Hermione?"

"Yes Harry?"

"I'm glad you're back." With that, he placed the cloak over his head and took off. The sound of his fading footsteps was evidence of his departure.

Hermione stared up at the ceiling as Harry's words continued to repeat over and over. She missed this; the closeness that they had created. How easy it was to touch one another when one needed comfort; the casual intimacy that they had that was the envy of others. As she relished in the contentment of what transpired, Hermione slowly drifted off back to sleep.

Before she was completely lost to slumber, Hermione smiled and whispered, "Me too Harry. Me too."


	2. Chapter II

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note:** I finally saw _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part II_. I was quite sad at the end, but overall, it was an amazing movie. Nevertheless, I still stand to the Harry Potter/Hermione Granger pairing. The movie only fueled my burning desire to crank out top-of-the-line Harmony stories! Also, would anyone like to be my Beta for this story? It would be nice to have someone help me polish this up.

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter II**

When Hermione awoke that following morning, she was immediately subjected to Madam Pomfrey's treatment. Things went about the same as from the previous timeline with the Matron fussing over her as she scolded Hermione for her reckless conduct. Hermione knew that the kindly matron was only worried for her well-being as she often did for the students under her care. That was one of the reasons why she was well-liked, even among the future Death Eaters in Slytherin.

Madam Pomfrey, after having done the diagnostics, left her side to procure the necessary potions for her treatment. Hermione frowned, while she knew that the potions were necessary for her recovery, the fact that she had to take ten different potions a day for the next few weeks was something she was not looking forward to. The taste was repulsive, it being worse than any muggle medicine she had taken by far.

Suddenly, a loud snort from the bed beside her broke her from her musings. She turned her head slightly to her right and noticed Ron's sleeping form. Several red marks could be spotted all over his arms and face. Hermione remembered how Ron had been injured by brains and even now, with two more years of experience, could not fathom how '_Accio brains_' was a good idea. Nevertheless, Ron wasn't injured too much by them, but considering the unknown properties of those brains, Madam Pomfrey had made sure to keep him in the Hospital Wing for observation.

Ron was a restless sleeper; his body was positioned in an awkward position as he hugged the pillow tightly to his chest. Hermione found it humorous, but the laughter faded once she remembered how Ron would act in the next two years. Now that the adrenaline of the battle was gone from her system, she remembered the surging kiss that she and he shared. Hermione wondered why she had done what she did. She knew that at any moment, they could have died. Perhaps that kiss was to keep her grounded from panicking over the reality of their situation. Regardless, Hermione wondered if what she felt for him was actual genuine affection or merely the desperation for intimacy in a moment of life and death.

Now that she was alone with her thoughts, the memories that flooded into her mind about Ron were far from pleasing. She remembered how cruel Ron had been to her with his cruel demonstration of his relationship with Lavender. Even when they had reconciled after the poisoned mead incident, Ron continued to behave hesitant in forming a romantic connection with her and they still fought over trivial matters. She really wondered if Ron had actually truly wanted her, but she could never be too sure. He had surely acted affectionate and gentlemanly over the course of the summer after Sixth Year and continued during the Horcrux hunt. Then, Ron became dissatisfied with the progress of their quest, and often voiced his distrust in Harry's leadership. Finally, Ron abandoned her and Harry.

Hermione could recall Ron's abandonment with perfect clarity. He had shot her a look of pure disgust and malice when she decided to stay with Harry. That was what startled her the most. If Ron truly liked her as he and others claimed to be, why was he able to pull off such a hateful glare towards her? Then, when he came back, Ron would always cast suspicious glances to her whenever she talked with Harry over their progress. His constant jealousy often tired her, but she put off confronting him in favor of maintaining the peace. Hermione forgave him for running off, but she could never forget.

Did she truly want a relationship with Ron?

If she was honest with herself, Hermione had to conclude that she did not. At some point, she had felt that she could have had a meaningful love with him. But too many things had been said and done that hurt her. While she would not condemn _this_ Ron for the actions of his older self, Hermione felt uncertain about having any future with him beyond friendship. While she still felt affection and a little smidge of attraction towards the youngest Weasley male, any ideas of further pursuing something romantic with him had died.

"Mister Weasley will be fine with some rest." Madam Pomfrey said as she arrived with two flasks of potions in her hands. Her timely entrance ended any further thoughts upon Ron and her eyes settled on the two potions that the healer held; one was purple, the other was green. Madam Pomfrey placed the green potion down by the desk beside her and removed the stopper from the purple potion. She took a whiff of the potion, grimaced, and then nodded in, what Hermione assumed was, satisfaction over the freshness of the brew. Madam Pomfrey extended her arm forward and offered the flask to her, "Drink this up dear."

Hermione bowed her head and took the potion. She placed it to her lips and began to quickly gulp down the liquid. The taste was absolutely vile and she was thankful that she made the decision to consume it in haste. As the last drop poured down her throat, Hermione suddenly felt lightheaded as her body felt warmer.

Hermione looked worriedly at Madam Pomfrey who merely smiled reassuringly, "Don't fret Miss Granger. Those are just the side effects of the potion and it would pass in a few minutes. At first, I thought to place you under a ten potions regiment with how the curse had damaged your body. Upon checking you this morning, it appears that your magical core had taken upon itself to heal the majority of the magical damage inflicted upon you.

"Thanks to the extent of the damage inflicted upon you, your core has become much stronger than before. While this is not uncommon, it can be quite dangerous for someone your age whose body has yet to fully develop. The potion you just drank is to help your body deal with the adjustment of your expanded magical core and also to help restore it after it exhausted itself from healing your wound."

Hermione nodded mutely at the amount of information that she was given. How was it possible? Before, she had been stuck with taking ten different potions every day in order for her to make a full recovery. And also, her magical core had somehow miraculously healed her wound and became stronger? While she did not doubt that what Madam Pomfrey said about it being not uncommon, the mere fact that it did not happen before was reason enough for Hermione to be skeptical.

It was difficult to ascertain what caused the change from the original continuity, but theories started to spring up in her mind. Was it possible that a piece of herself from the future had somehow been sent back to the past along with her consciousness? If that was true, then was it possible that the magical core that had been further along developed integrated with the core of her past, thus it becoming powerful enough to be made aware of by Madam Pomfrey? While Hermione knew she had no definite proof, the explanation made a lot of sense. Hermione wondered if she could further research the subject, but found it highly doubtful she would find books about people travelling back to the past and awake in their younger bodies.

"Is there something wrong dear?" Madam Pomfrey asked worriedly.

Hermione looked up at her and by then, she felt the side effects of the purple potion begin to subside. She smiled lightly despite the numerous questions that were plaguing her thoughts, "No, no. I was just thinking is all. It's how I tend to be. What is the green potion for?"

"Oh, it's just to help ease the physical pain. You have already made a spectacular recovery, but I'm sure you still felt some aches from your injury. Also, I hope to keep you in here for one more day if that's alright?"

"Of course Madam Pomfrey."

"Excellent! Thank goodness you have a sensible head. Unlike Mister Potter or Mister Weasley, you are not the least bit stubborn when it comes to my treatment." Madam Pomfrey chided good-naturedly as she grabbed the green potion and removed the cork. She examined it like she had done with the purple potion and once it passed her test, the matron handed it over to Hermione to consume. Hermione drank the potion just as quickly as the previous one and found it to taste just as disgusting. Once finished, she handed the empty flask back. As Madam Pomfrey took the glass, she said, "Good, I have four more each in my stores that you have to take every morning for the next four days. I trust that you will take them after I release you tomorrow?"

"Of course Madam Pomfrey."

"Good. Now rest up, let the potions sink into your system and I'll ask a house-elf to send up a plate of breakfast in half an hour. You will eat it whether you're hungry or not."

Hermione watched as Madam Pomfrey walked back to her office. As she studied her surroundings, she realized that she was without entertainment and that Ron was still asleep. She settled on the bed. Her mind once again wandered back to what happened in the ethereal King's Cross Station. Hermione was stuck in the past and she wondered what changes she could make for the better? She knew already that the top of her list would be to prevent her estrangement with Harry; she already realized the consequences if she decided to go down that route.

_Dumbledore is still alive._

The sentence continually echoed in her mind. She shot up from her bed with her eyes wide in realization. Dumbledore was still alive! Relief spread through her like a wildfire. If she relayed the information back to Dumbledore with the locations of the Horcrux, then perhaps they wouldn't have gone through all those risks two years from now.

However, if she was to inform Dumbledore of the Horcruxes, then that meant she had to reveal that she was from the future. _Perhaps if I reveal what I know, I could prevent him from dying._ The thought of Dumbledore living beyond her Sixth Year was tantalizing. If she managed to prevent Dumbledore's death, it would mean Voldemort would remain fearful and would be careful in his movements. But in the previous timeline, Lily had said that Harry had won and defeated Voldemort. Even if she decided to allow Dumbledore to die to reach that point, how was she going to recreate the sequence of events? It would be impossible, and after using the Time Turner in Third Year, maintaining the continuity of certain occurrences was hard to do. No, she could not risk it. Hermione would have to tell Dumbledore what she knew.

Her attention was soon drawn to the doors of the infirmary opening. She beamed when she saw Harry walking through the doorway looking more rested than ever. There were still dark circles beneath his eyes and he still had a solemn look to him, but overall, Hermione was pleased to note that Harry looked genuinely chipper. She reasoned that Harry was probably keeping his thoughts away from Sirius. Hermione vowed to help him deal with that sooner or later.

"Good morning Harry." Hermione greeted warmly, she motioned over to Ron who was still out, "If you were planning to visit us, I'm afraid Ron has yet to awaken."

Harry took a moment to regard his best mate and grinned, "Well, you know Ron. Give him any excuse to have a lie in and he would take it."

Hermione acceded with that observation with a chuckle, "Have you had breakfast yet Harry?"

He shook his head, "No, not yet. I wanted to check up on you both first."

"That's sweet of you Harry, but you should go eat."

Harry made his way to her bed and questioned her with a brow. Knowing what he wanted, Hermione assented to his whim by scooting over slightly to the side, giving Harry some room to sit in. He made himself comfortable and sat close to Hermione as the bed was only made to hold one person. The two grinned at each other, but it was Harry that broke the easy silence between them, "What did Madam Pomfrey said about your injury?" He asked seriously.

Hermione sighed, picking up Harry's worried tone, "It's not as bad as she thought. I only have to take two potions each day in the next five days. By the time term is over, I would have made a full recovery."

"That's good."

"However, I'm not worried about my wound, I'm worried about you."

Harry averted his gaze away from her, "What do you mean? I came out of there unscathed."

"Harry." Hermione said sternly, "You know better. I could read you like an open book." _A trait I nearly lost because of my own negligence._ Hermione thought bitterly.

The raven-haired boy she came to know and love sighed heavily, his expression softened but it remained aloof as Hermione remembered it in the previous timeline when Harry lost Sirius, "I-I really don't want to talk about it. Or rather, I don't know how to talk about it."

"It's alright Harry. I won't force it out of you." Hermione whispered comfortingly, "But just know, whenever you need to talk. I'll be here for you. Okay?"

Harry lowered his head, his way of saying he understood. Hermione pulled him into a one-armed hug which Harry had taken gratefully. The two were left to their own devices as they sat next to one another in a companionable calm. Hermione savored how comfortable she felt around Harry and how easy it was to recognize what she was missing when it was finally lost. She couldn't help but miss these small moments she had with Harry, something she had nearly forgotten. It was always Harry that lifted up her spirits. She reminisced about the time Harry had forced her to dance with him during that time in the tent. Despite not wanting Harry to comfort her, she succumbed and eventually was able to laugh and smile again. It was all thanks to Harry.

"Have you…" He began, "I mean, who…has anyone you've known ever died?"

Without thinking, Hermione answered, "Yes."

"Who?"

Hermione froze. She hadn't realized that the answer slipped out, but when Harry asked her that question, she saw Harry's corpse in front of Hogwarts as Voldemort gloated over his supposed victory. She could feel the emotions that she felt that time and how desperate she was in hoping that it wasn't true. She looked up at Harry and saw his expectant eyes. Resigned to her fate, Hermione expanded, "I once had a friend. We were so close to each other that whenever one needed help, we knew we could always rely on one another."

By then, there were already tears beginning to form, "Then, because of my own stupidity, I started to turn away from him. He told me something about himself that made me scared. I was scared to lose him and I didn't want to deal with the pain of losing him, so I began distancing myself, hoping that if I did that, then when he was gone, I wouldn't have to suffer as hard.

"But the thing is, Harry, it just made it that much harder. When he died, I only remembered all the horrible things I've done to him out of my own selfishness. I hated myself for putting him through so much. And you want to know what the worst part is? He never stopped being my friend. Even until the end, even after I treated him so cruelly, he still went out of his way to help me and comfort me."

Hermione raised her knees up to her chest and hugged her legs. As tears streamed down her face, she felt Harry gently wrap his arms around her. _It's just the same as Lily's._ Hermione thought as she reveled in Harry's touch. She blinked away the droplets as she faced Harry who gave her a smile that was absolutely contagious.

"How did you…handle it?" He asked shyly.

Hermione sniffled and rubbed the remnants of the tears away, chuckling, "I just remembered the good memories we had together is all."

"I think…I think you're right. I keep thinking that maybe Sirius is still out there. That maybe he is still alive. But…that's foolish. There were so many things I wanted to do with him that I was never able to." Harry sharply exhaled, "Now I can never do those things with him. But, I think you're right. I should remember the good things about him. How he made me laugh and everything. How much he cared for me even though we hardly had time to be together. Even so, knowing this, it still hurts."

"It will always hurt Harry. Your own wounds are still fresh and it would take some time before it can fully begin to heal. In fact, talking to me about Sirius, well, it means you're on your way to making a recovery. But the most important thing is that you're not alone Harry. All your friends are here for you. At the least, _I'm_ here for you."

"I just wish to just get away from magic for a while. Y'know, to give me time to think this through. But the only place for that is the Dursley's, and they certainly won't give me time to…well…y'know." Harry admitted sullenly.

Hermione thought for a moment, thinking about what Harry had said. She was elated that Harry opened up to her about Sirius, something he hadn't done before. However, her thoughts focused on his admission. Last time, she had sacrificed time with her parents to be with the Weasley's. _Perhaps I could invite Harry over._ Hermione concluded gleefully. Excitedly, Hermione said, "Why don't you come stay with me for the summer? I mean, I don't practice magic at home and I'm sure my parents don't mind if I have a friend visiting. What do you say Harry? It would be nice, and after skiving off my parents…" _And eventually sending off to Australia with no memories of me,_ "…I want to spend more time with them, but it would be nice if I had you along to have fun with now and then."

A broad smile adorned Harry's face as he contemplated the idea, "That's brilliant Hermione!" He said with gusto. His beaming expression soon faltered as he voiced one of his doubts, "But what about the Weasleys? I mean, would it be rude to not go to them?"

Hermione frowned, "As much as I love the Weasleys, and I'm grateful for always inviting me over during the summer, you're my friend too Harry. I want _you_ to spend time with _me_ in my own _home_ with my own _parents_. Is that too bad?"

Harry shook his head, "No. I was just wondering. It always seemed like I'm imposing on them when I visit. Besides, I think it would be fun to go muggle for a while don't you think?"

"After everything that happened, I certainly need a break." Hermione confessed. It was true, after going through that battle at Hogwarts where Voldemort, himself, led the charge, Hermione wanted to do away with anything magical once she got home.

The two friends laughed at each other's words. Suddenly, Hermione gave Harry a truly big hug as she jokingly attempted to squeeze the life of him. As Harry returned the squeeze with a bear hug of his own, the two chuckled at each other's antics and enjoyed the camaraderie they shared. Hermione broke the laughter by interweaving her fingers with Harry's, "Better?" She asked, wondering if Harry's grief over Sirius's death had lightened from their talk.

Harry's green eyes met her brown ones as they stared at one another affectionately. In a surprising gesture, Harry took Hermione's hand that was clutching to his and planted a small kiss on her knuckles, "Better."

And for one small moment, Hermione thought she felt her heart flutter.


	3. Chapter III

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note:** My biggest problem in writing these stories is my portrayal of other characters. I can easily emulate Hermione's and Harry's personalities, but the most difficult characters I find writing is Ron and Luna. Hopefully, I have done them justice. Perhaps I made Ron a little bit too dim-witted or perhaps too mature, either way, I would appreciate any thoughts on the matter. Also, I would like to extend a warm thanks to my Beta, _TheOddEnigma_. Without her, I'm sure this would look half as bad as it is now.

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter III**

Madam Pomfrey later returned with two plates of the regular morning meal, instructing both Hermione and Harry to eat up. As they consumed breakfast, the pair continued to talk of miscellaneous things to pass the time. They talked about what their summer plans would be, what Luna, Neville, and Ginny were up to since the fight, and what she had missed Friday while she was still comatose. Fortunately, it was Saturday, and Harry decided to spend time with Hermione while waiting for Ron to wake up. Hermione could tell that there was something still bothering Harry, and she surmised that it was the weight of prophecy burdening him.

She was incensed with the Headmaster for how he unveiled the prophecy to Harry. Did he not realize the psychological repercussions of releasing such a bombshell mere moments after the death of a loved one? No wonder Harry closed himself off in the previous timeline. The damages he sustained emotionally had overwhelmed him. It didn't help that she hadn't supported him in his moment of need. Thankfully, that was already changing.

"I'm going to pop back to the common room to tell Ginny and Neville you're awake. Do you need anything?" Harry asked as moved off her bed.

Hermione paused and began listing the items in her head. After finalizing the materials, she smiled gratefully at Harry, "Some parchment, a quill, and some ink. I'm going to get started on writing a letter to my parents asking if you could stay over the summer." And as Harry turned to leave, Hermione remembered one critical element she had nearly forgotten, "Oh! And a book please! Nothing Quidditch alright?"

Harry chuckled knowingly, "Of course, how could I forget that you can't survive a day without a book."

"Prat." Hermione rolled her eyes, but her mouth twitched with an amused grin.

"I'll see you in a little bit." The pair shared one last smile before Harry took off.

With Harry's departure, Hermione was once again left to her own thoughts. Her conversation with Harry had considerably lifted up her spirits and she felt absolutely radiant in happiness. The closeness the two of them shared was nothing short of phenomenal. There were no pretenses between the two of them unlike the masks they sported in the future where they were less than honest with one another.

Hermione sighed, she was repeating again. Her mind kept wandering down towards that lonely path mired with her regrets and disappointments, but fortunately, her elatedness was helping her steer clear away from that road. She refocused her mind on how she was going to phrase her letter to her parents regarding Harry's stay with them over the summer. Hermione knew that her parents probably wouldn't deny her request, but nevertheless, she had to not risk it on the off chance they said no.

Speaking of her parents, Hermione knew that they would be curious about her injury. Hogwarts always sent a letter to parents about injuries or incidents that befell the students. Fortunately, the trick was that the letters for injuries were automatic similar to Hogwarts acceptance letters. The letter for her parents would only contain that Hermione had been injured by a spell. The circumstances involved would not be explained in full detail unless inquired. That was what her parents had done during the time she was petrified and she had been close to leaving the school altogether. Her fear to leave Harry and her friends behind was what drove her to lie to her parents in the previous timeline about how she was injured by writing to them that she was careless while trying out a new spell. Her parents knew she was ambitious and studious, so the worst they had done was scold her for placing herself in danger.

As much as she hated lying and knowing full well that she was rubbish at it, Hermione had decided she was going to do the same thing once more. Thankfully, the wound was not as serious as last time, so her parents would not be as belligerent about it. Nevertheless, Hermione felt guilty lying to them. She knew her parents loved her and she reciprocated, but Hermione very well knew that their relationship was strained.

Her mood darkened as she followed that train of thought. Hermione bit her bottom lip and visibly shook her head. _Stop thinking negatively, sure you made mistakes, but now you have the chance to fix it._ Hermione scolded herself. The war and the months of being on the run affected her considerably, and she knew that her humor and thoughts had become considerably morbid in a means to cope with the stress of her situation. It was only because she was able to accurately identify and look at her plight objectively was she unable to be consumed by the negative emotions that resided within her.

_It's just as granddad said, war can change a person._ Hermione thought resignedly.

A low moan emitted from Ron's bed. Curious, Hermione turned her head and found that the sun had had enough of Ron's slothful behavior and was now shining its rays down upon his sleeping form. His face was scrunched up in indignation, showing that he was not at all pleased that something was interrupting his slumber. A cloud soon passed as the sun's rays had stopped battering Ron for the moment. His expression slowly stilled to a peaceful state, happy that was could return to having a lie in. Of course, Hermione had to break that delusion.

"Ron. Wake up. It's almost noon and I think you have had enough sleeping." Hermione told him, her tone crossing into her lecturing tone.

Ron snorted and then tiredly mumbled, "Five more minutes mum."

"Honestly Ron?" Hermione asked rhetorically. She sighed and picked up her pillow. Aiming at his head, Hermione threw the soft object at Ron's face as hard as she could. The pillow impacted with Ron's face which led to him immediately bolting up from his bed with a look of terror plastered on his features. Hermione had to stifle a laugh at viewing something so funny.

The lanky red-haired teen checked his surroundings, a bit confused, but his blue eyes settled on Hermione who had trouble holding back the amused smile that threatened to appear on her face. He looked down on the pillow that had impacted against his skull and back to Hermione and promptly glared at her, "That's not funny."

Hermione rolled her eyes and grinned, "It was either that or say that acromantulas crawled into your bed."

The expression on his face was priceless and Hermione couldn't hold back the giggle she attempted to quell. Ron, once again, had not found Hermione amusing and crossed his arms, pouting, "Can't you let a bloke sleep?"

"I could have." Hermione started, "But, it's almost noon, so you would have missed lunch and we can't have that now can we? Not only that, your sister will be coming soon to visit you, and who knows what she will do when you're in your most vulnerable. Not to mention I've grown weary of your snores. Honestly, I don't understand how Harry and the others in your dorm can put up with it."

Ron face grew red, whether it was out of embarrassment or annoyance, Hermione couldn't tell. She concluded that it was from embarrassment with Ron's following comment, "They put silencing charms on their beds before they go to sleep."

_Smart idea, I wonder why I never came up with that in the tent_. Hermione palmed her face, hindsight was 20/20.

"Are you alright Hermione? What did Madam Pomfrey say about your injury?" Ron asked tentatively, his eyes stared at her with worry and a little bit of fear.

It was then and there that Hermione realized when she started growing feelings for Ron. His gentle concern over her well-being during their time alone in the Hospital Wing was what sparked her attraction to Ron that escalated throughout Sixth Year. But, sadly, as much as Hermione was glad that Ron cared for her, possibly even thought he loved her by this point, Hermione could not forget the hurt he had put her through time and time again. The romance between them was dead, and while she acknowledged that it was partly due to her personality, it was also Ron's actions in the future that cemented it.

Regardless of what Ron had done, Hermione still considered him a dear friend and took his worry platonically, "Oh, I'm right fine she says. I'm not going to bore you with the specifics, but it appears that I'm free to leave by tomorrow."

"Oh, that's good. Harry and I were going right spare with you out cold all day yesterday."

"Thanks for worrying, but you should be more worried for yourself. Madam Pomfrey is going to be keeping you here for quite a bit." Hermione told him with a mischievous smirk on her face.

Ron paled and groaned at the thought of the matron fussing over him, "Wonderful. I should be out playing Quidditch with Harry after O.W.L.s! But noooo, _Accio Brains_, what was I thinking?"

Hermione didn't comment further as Madam Pomfrey swooped down on Ron like a hawk and subjected him to various diagnostic spells and then later to various concoctions and remedies to relieve some of the red marks on him as well as some minor pain that Ron was having. To Ron's dislike, he had to wait another hour before he could eat, and judging from his growling stomach, he was very hungry.

"She's a bit barmy don't you think?" Ron complained as he shifted into a comfortable position on the bed.

"Madam Pomfrey means well Ron." Hermione scolded him minimally, "She's better than any Healer in St. Mungo's."

Ron muttered something that Hermione couldn't make out. She wasn't given time to ponder over it as Ron swiftly changed the subject to another thing altogether, "So, you staying with us over the summer Hermione?"

The witch in question gazed at the youngest Weasley male questionably, "Why would you think that?"

"Oh y'know, we always go to my place over the summer. Well, except last year when we got stuck in Grimmauld Place." Ron stated in a matter-of-factly tone.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "Hasn't it occurred to you that I want to spend time with my parents? It's bad enough that I had to cancel my ski trip with them over Winter hols, but summer is the only time they get to see me for two months."

Ron shrugged, "So are you coming or not?"

Her lips thinned as annoyance began to replace the jovial mood they had. Hermione attempted to rein in her ire, but she couldn't help but feel frustrated by Ron's total lack of tact. There was always something about him that ticked her off in some shape or form, but Ron's seemingly uncaring attitude towards her want to spend time with her parents was just incorrigible! Thankfully, she was much more mature than she had been when she was sixteen, Hermione breathed in calmly and the anger that clouded her thoughts cleared away. In a civil pitch, she said, "Sorry Ron, I already made plans. I may come to visit, but I'm not staying."

"Oh that's too bad," Ron frowned, "At least Harry's around. Yeah, I guess you wouldn't like it since Harry and I would probably just play Quidditch."

"Actually," Hermione beamed proudly, "Harry is staying with me over the summer."

"What!" Ron cried out. His face was a mixture of confusion, curiosity, and displeasure, "Why? I mean it's not like you're any fu-"

"I highly recommend you don't finish that sentence Ronald." Hermione interrupted, "Sirius just died Ron, and Harry's not taking it too well. He wanted someplace to get away for a while, to have some time to think."

"Why can't he do that in the Burrow?" He asked defensively.

"No offense to you or your family, but the Burrow isn't exactly the sort of place where I would go to for some peace and quiet."

"Oh." Realization dawned on Ron or at least that's what Hermione thought by the look on his face.

"Besides, Harry doesn't want anything to do with magic for a bit. And yes, I know, 'why would he want to do that'," Hermione said as Ron moved to open his mouth to ask the very same question, "The reason is because magic took away Sirius, and Harry needs to cope with the loss and come into terms with it."

"I think I see your point." Ron said unsure.

"Would you want to be the one to talk about feelings and whatnots with Harry?"

"Err, no."

"I know you want to help Harry by distracting him and have him forget his troubles, but that won't do anything for Harry. He needs to confront it head-on away from his dreadful relatives."

Ron nodded in understanding, but Hermione fully knew that Ron didn't completely comprehend what she tried to convey. Not that Hermione could blame Ron, but she never recalled him ever having to deal with the loss of a loved one before Fred. He wouldn't understand, and hopefully, he would never have to so soon. Although, Hermione felt guilty as Ron looked quite sullen at the thought of not being able to hang around with Harry, so she decided to add one last comment, "Stop pouting Ron, just because Harry is going to stay with me over the summer, it doesn't mean we can't visit. The Order will probably be watching us, and I can bet they'll be more than willing to take us to the Burrow."

This elicited an excited smile from Ron, "Great! Actually, it doesn't sound too bad come to think of it. You help Harry with his emotional things, and then I'll drag Harry around to have fun. Brilliant plan Hermione!"

Hermione stifled the notion to admonish Ron's implications that she couldn't be fun with Harry. Granted, studying was important, but it wasn't everything. Then again, considering her outlandish anxious behavior because of O.W.L.s, she could see how both Harry and Ron believe all she ever did was study and do homework. In fact, Hermione wondered if they ever knew about her hobbies. Maybe Harry knew, Harry always seemed to know everything about her. But she doubted Ron did.

She wondered if she should make more of an effort to show them that she had a loose side to her. Believe it or not, Hermione knew that school and good grades were not the most important things in the world. After living through a war, she realized what really mattered. In fact, considering that she still had a perfect memory of what was to come in the upcoming year regarding her studies, Hermione could afford to skip the many studying sessions she originally had. Perhaps she would have a refresher now and again to cement the information though.

However, one thing that bothered her if she was changing who she truly was in order to look more favorable to her friends? No, she concluded that she wasn't. Hermione felt proud that she was the person all her friends go to if they needed help, but it was often disconcerting when they would assume she would not enjoy some of their activities. It often bothered and worried her that her only use was as a source of information. Perhaps that was one partial reason for her treatment of Harry in the original Sixth Year. Not only was she fearful of Harry being potentially killed, but perhaps she was jealous that a single book had usurped her position as Harry's source of assistance.

Perhaps, this time around, she would be more open to trying out new things. The war was already beginning, and she knew she could not guarantee the life of her friends. As much as she wanted to assume that they would stay alive like they had originally, there was no way to be sure if that would be the reality. For all she knew, she had already changed things too much like a ripple in the water turning into a large wave in their figurative pond of a time stream. Hermione would have to enjoy the little time left she had with her friends before they are all thrown into a terrible struggle of life and death.

Her first step was having a civil and interested conversation with Ron about his interests, "So Ron, are you trying out for the Quidditch team next year?" She asked knowingly. Ron's ears perked at the mention of Quidditch and broadly smiled about the question. For the next half hour, Hermione was subjected to Ron's ceaseless stream of Quidditch strategies, positions, maneuvers, brooms, and other things that impacted the sport.

Fortunately, her saving grace arrived in the form of Harry's presence with Ginny, Neville, and Luna in tow. Hermione gave a grateful look to Harry who, having overheard the conversation before Ron stopped and greeted him, smirked knowingly at her. _Harry must have the patience of a saint if he could live in a dorm with Ron all year and listen to all this. I didn't think it would be this bad!_ Hermione shook her head in disbelief.

As the three other heroes of the Department of Mysteries talked to Ron, Harry walked over and handed the materials she requested, "So, you were subjected to Ron's never ending Quidditch speak eh?"

"I don't know how you're able to put up with it Harry, I don't think even your old Quidditch captain talked as much as Ron." Hermione confessed exasperatedly.

Harry's chuckled and rolled his eyes, "Oh, he's not that bad. Just wait until you get him on the Chudley Cannons."

A look of fear washed over her, "Please don't."

Harry laughed one last time before his attention was caught by Ron and dragged him into a group discussion with Ginny and Neville about the predictions of the summer's Quidditch World Cup. Hermione was surprised that Neville was talking just as excitedly along with them, but frankly, she shouldn't have been. Considering Neville spent his time with Harry and Ron in their dorm, he would be used to these types of conversation. Her interest was piqued however as Luna strode her towards her with the dreamy expression she perpetually seemed to have.

"Afternoon Hermione, I hope you are faring well." Her gentle voice flowed smoothly towards her. She looked not at Hermione but remained shifting her gaze as she looked about her surroundings. The light of the sun reflected off of her silky, blonde hair, regaling her in a surrealistic glow. She wore her regular Hogwarts uniform, but Hermione amusedly noted the radish earrings she wore and the odd cork necklace she used as a charm to ward off the Nargles. Hermione could agree that if boys were able to look past her flavorful personality, they would find a subtle beauty that was simply breathtaking.

Hermione smiled at the younger girl, remembering the bravery and strength of character she had. Even when the serene girl was locked away in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, she remained steadfast and unwavering. While their first meeting was not the most ideal of first impressions, Hermione grew fond of the caring Ravenclaw who cared little about what others thought of her. "Just a bruised pride is all. People say I'm the Brightest Witch in Hogwarts, yet I was put down fairly early in the fight. You, on the other hand, were a smashing duelist."

Luna's normal wide eyes seemed to grow even wider, but it only occurred for a single moment. She looked at Hermione oddly and responded, "Oh, thank you then. You seem different Hermione."

She looked shocked by the astute observation. While she knew that Luna had an eye for detail, she hadn't anticipated that she would be able to spot the difference between herself and her younger counterpart. After all, she hadn't changed much in the last two years. "What do you mean Luna?" She asked carefully.

"Hm, it's nothing I supposed. You just seem a bit more world weary, more mature. Then again, trauma can do that to a person. I like you this way. You seem more radiant, more beautiful." Luna commented honestly, and Hermione was amused by how lofty her tone sounded.

Hermione's cheeks tinged pink at the compliment and smiled, "Thank you Luna. Perhaps I managed to drive away some Wrackspurts, you know you always seem to say that they affect your brains."

Luna nodded, "That they do. Do you suppose Madam Pomfrey keeps pudding in storage? In addition to it being a delicious substance, my mum once mentioned that it can be served for medicinal purposes for poison consumption and for irritable bowels."

Hermione stared at Luna blankly. The girl was very endearing, and Hermione loved how unique and odd Luna can be. But there are times when Luna said something so completely bizarre that the only way Hermione could respond was with a simple, flat, "What?"


	4. Chapter IV

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note**: Does anyone have any suggestions to where Hermione should live? I can't have her live in Surrey or around the London area. Perhaps somewhere that's an hour - at least - away from Little Whinging. Anyway, this chapter has me nervous. Despite my beta's assurance, I'm still wondering if I am accurately portraying Hermione. So far from the reviews I've received, people like how I characterize her, let's hope that is the case after this chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter IV**

When Hermione awoke the following morning, her body felt light and lithe. The stiffness of her muscles and the dulling ache of her limbs were now gone. Only a slight pain stemming from her wound remained, but even then, Hermione hardly felt it. Her breathing was much easier; Hermione never felt more fit in all her life! Wondering what could be the cause of her excellent health, she thought back to the explanation Madam Pomfrey had given her. Her magical core was now larger than ever, and in response to the expansion of this, her body increased her energy levels. And perhaps, another reason was because her younger body was far better taken care of. Unlike two years later, Hermione was not malnourished and didn't lack rest. She was clean and ready to be admitted out of the infirmary, Hermione only hoped that Madam Pomfrey agreed with her.

It wasn't long before the matron arrived to look over Hermione's hopefully final check-up. She waved her wand, muttering incantations too low for Hermione to hear. Several glowing lights of various colors later, Madam Pomfrey sported a large motherly smile and proudly stated, "Miss Granger, you are free to go." Hermione grinned, "However! You are to come here every morning up until the last day of term to take your potions. And also, your body has yet to fully recover from your injury, so I do not strain or stress yourself. Am I clear young lady?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically, "Of course Madam Pomfrey!"

"Good. Now take your potion dear. I'll go get your clothes now; I believe the house-elves have finished cleaning them." Madam Pomfrey handed her the two daily potions and went off to gather the clothing. While Hermione frowned at the mention of the house-elves, she had already learned that the house-elves in Hogwarts loved what they did and were not abused unlike Dobby when he was under the employ of the Malfoys.

She gulped down the two potions as quickly as she can, still disliking the taste both had. Hermione had just finished the last potion when Madam Pomfrey arrived once more carrying the clothes she had worn that night in the Department of Mysteries. Lying atop of the clothes was her wand. She blinked, fully realizing that she had her _real_ wand again, and not Bellatrix's.

"Miss Granger?" Madam Pomfrey asked, startling Hermione from her stupor.

She stared blankly at the clothes in the matron's arms, not knowing what to do. Hermione soon made the connection and took her clothes off of Madam Pomfrey's hands. The older witch nodded curtly before dismissing herself from Hermione's presence. Hermione mutely walked towards to the lavatory, her expression still mystified as her eyes stayed glued onto her wand. Once she was within the privacy of the lavatory, Hermione locked the door and shakily moved her hands towards 10 ¾ inch vine wood, dragon heartstring wand.

Once her fingertips touched the soft wooden frame of the wand, she felt the magical feeling of its acceptance. Almost as if it jumped into her hands, Hermione gripped the mystical catalyst she had long since used. A cascade of emotions soon overwhelmed her, each different from the rest. Hermione felt comfortable warmth drawn from _her_ wand as it enveloped her in a serene embrace of tranquil completion. How long had it been since she had used her own wand? It had been months! How could she have forgotten how wonderful it felt to use a wand that loved you and only wanted you to wield it? Had she grown so used to struggling against a wand that hated her? It mattered no longer as she now had _her_ wand again.

Like Harry's intimate friendship with her, she had no idea how much she missed the object that was an extension of herself until it was gone.

After the emotional reunion with her beloved wand, Hermione began to change out of the robes that the Hospital Wing gave out and into her own. As she watched herself dress in the mirror, she felt oddly amused seeing her younger self. She looked so _innocent_. Her eyes still gleamed like an energetic youth with aspirations of idealistic pursuits. Her skin was smooth and held the peach cream color of a fading tan from visiting France a few years ago. Her fingers no longer held calluses from months of roughing it in the wilderness and no longer sported the scars of a filthy word etched onto her body. Her cheeks were fuller and had none of the gaunt frame caused by lack of food. Needless to say, she looked far better now than the chaotic future yet to come.

Even so, she was a far cry from being considered beautiful. Hermione never felt the need to make herself look pretty. She always thought that those girls who paid too much attention to their appearances were shallow and narcissistic. She had vowed many times when she was young that she wouldn't become a girl who was obsessed with her looks. However, Hermione now realized that it was not the case. Lavender and Parvati didn't want to look pretty to impress a few boys. No, they dressed themselves up and wanted to look beautiful because they thought it would be fun to look nice. It wasn't a matter of making others look at them; it was a matter of how you looked at yourself.

She could remember some of the days in the dorm when Parvati and Lavender would just put on a dress randomly and place make-up on themselves for no reason. She would ask them, "Why?"

Then, they would just look at each other and smiled widely, "It's just fun."

Of course, Hermione hadn't understood then. She was fully aware that she was a socially awkward, the fact she was different from the other girls she knew made her more aware of that fact. Even now, Hermione knew she was still a little shy about meeting new people. Prettying themselves up was a way for them to express themselves. It gave them the confidence to be open with people. And deep down, even when Hermione convinced herself she didn't care how she looked, there was a part of her that wanted to be described as 'the brightest and most gorgeous witch of her age'. It was a silly fantasy, something Hermione was sure would never happen.

Hermione examined herself in the mirror. The young girl in front of her was on the precipice of adulthood. It would not be long before the summer took the last vestige of adolescence and propel the girl to womanhood. As Hermione looked at herself, there were so many things about her that she wanted to change. But perhaps, most of all, it was to change the bushy mane she sported. Even when, in later years, she decided to braid her thick locks, it didn't look any better. It wasn't like she wasn't proud of herself. Hermione prided herself with the accomplishments she made and she was content with how she looked. She knew Ron, Cormac, and Viktor all thought she was pretty. But…

But she didn't want to look _just_ pretty; Hermione wanted someone to call her _beautiful_.

_No use complaining, it's not like it'll happen._ Hermione sighed, but smiled. _At least I have a nice smile. Harry always said he liked my smiles._

With her spirits slightly lifted, Hermione finished dressing and exited the lavatory. She wanted to say goodbye to Ron, but he was still sleeping. It was Sunday after all. Fortunately, the red marks on him were disappearing and the stinging pain he felt from them was gone. Hermione pocketed the already sealed letter for her parents and gleefully left the Medical Wing at last.

Hermione walked through the halls leading to the Gryffindor common room at a brisk pace. As she turned the corner that led to the Fat Lady's portrait, Hermione almost bumped into Harry who was moving just as fast. However, instead of crashing into one another and falling on their bums, Hermione made an amazing swift slide to the left, making Harry walk past her instead of creating what could have been a painful collision.

"Harry!" Hermione cried out surprised.

The raven haired wizard stopped in his tracks. He turned around and smiled sheepishly, "Morning Hermione. That was a close one!"

"I'll say." She smiled and spotted something fold up in his hands, "What's that Harry?"

"Oh this?" Harry lifted up the item and unfolded it, revealing the _Sunday Prophet_, "The _Sunday Prophet_ decided to have an early edition about the events at the Ministry." He frowned, "No doubt everyone would hear of the news by breakfast. I really don't want to go down there."

Hermione wordlessly took the _Sunday Prophet_ and read the headline news. She skimmed through the article, noticing that it was the same content as the previous timeline, "On the bright side Harry, everyone will believe that Voldemort is back."

"Yeah, _finally_!" Harry commented morosely, "Read what they say about me. A load of rubbish after they've been slandering me all year if you ask me."

"The most important thing is that you can't be called a liar Harry."

Harry remained largely unhappy about the article, but spared a nod, "What did Madam Pomfrey say?"

Hermione grinned, knowing what Harry really meant was '_You better tell me everything she said or else I will be worrying ceaselessly about you_', "She says that I need to take her two potions every morning until the last day of term and also to get enough rest while minimizing any physical strain."

"You better get back to bed then. I'll walk you to the common ro-"

"Harry!" Hermione said petulantly, "I'm not made of glass. Besides, I need the exercise. Staying in bed all day doesn't do well on me. Now, would you like to escort me to breakfast instead?"

Harry's mouth opened to protest, but with knowing look from Hermione, he changed his mind, "Sure."

"Good, I need my school robes so…" Hermione's voice trailed off as she started walking towards the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Why do you need your school robes to have breakfast?" Harry asked curiously, eyeing her puzzled.

"It's against school rules to attend any meals without your uniform Harry." Hermione stated casually.

"It's Sunday and we don't have any classes. Besides, I think that rule is usually ignored on weekends for the morning and afternoon fare."

"Be that as it may be Harry, I _am_ a Prefect. I have to set an example for the other students."

"I know, I know. But, it's the end of term. Besides, didn't we plan to take a walk around the lake? We'll be taking off our robes then anyway."

Hermione stared inquisitively at Harry and locked eyes with him. His pleading green eyes and small smile was directly in her line of vision. Rolling her eyes, Hermione crossed her arms and sighed, "Fine. But so help me Harry, if I get in trouble…"

"I'll take the blame." Harry smirked.

Satisfied, Hermione took Harry's lead and matched his pace as they walked to the Great Hall. As they conversed over, Hermione studied Harry. Like yesterday, she was pleased to note that Harry seemed to be getting enough rest. However, his lethargic posture as they moved about spoke volumes of the burden he carried. She knew that the hurt over Sirius's death was still fresh in his heart, but Hermione knew that there was an entirely different reason why he had been upset over the news article earlier. He was the _Chosen One_ of the prophecy, and right now, Hermione knew he believed that he had no chance of surviving the war.

She pondered on a way to cheer her up and decided that he needed to be reminded of their planned summer, "Harry, do you mind if we stop by the Owlery first? I want to owl my letter asking for you to stay over to my parents."

"That's right!" Harry exclaimed earnestly, "Would you like to use Hedwig Hermione?"

Hermione had to hold back tears at the reminder of Hedwig; her death had been a sour point for her as she knew how much she meant to Harry. She effortlessly managed to hold up her mask and agreed, "I would love to, if Hedwig doesn't mind of course."

"Of course not. Hedwig loves you."

The two changed their course to the Owlery at the West Tower. As they climbed the flight of stairs leading to where the birds were held, they could hear the constant flapping of feathers as morning meant it would be the busiest time for the Owlery. When they reached the last of the steps, Hermione and Harry found a group of owls huddling together eating treats or drinking water far off from the stands of the student-owned and Hogwarts-owned owls. Hermione wondered if the owls separated from the majority were the owls from various businesses that stopped to take a break for food or water before heading back to their regular establishment.

Harry took the lead, gesturing for her to follow him as he navigated his way through the busy owls. Hermione was thankful for whatever charms were placed in the Owlery as she smelled none of the stink that she expected given of amount of owls that stayed here. The floor was also non-existent of any droppings and thought that there may have been a permanent Vanishing spell placed on it. In _Hogwarts, a History_, they only had a small paragraph about the Owlery that related to its creation and not any of the spellwork placed into it.

"Hermione? Staring at the floor?" Harry asked, amusedly grinning.

Hermione blushed lightly and sputtered, "I-I was thinking of the spell design. I've always been here to mail my letters, but I never really noticed how you can't smell anything or there aren't any droppings on the floor."

"Oh, yeah. I'm surprised you never knew. Isn't there anything about it in _Hogwarts, a History_?" Harry asked curiously.

"No. Not really."

"Huh. Odd." Harry moved past some of the flying owls by ducking as Hermione followed. The two ended up at the farthest end of the Owlery and sitting proudly on a stand with her chest puffed out was none other than Harry's snow-white owl, Hedwig. Surrounding her were various owls that seemed watchful of Hermione. Harry walked up to Hedwig and cooed affectionately towards her, "Hey girl. Do you mind sending a letter for Hermione?"

The owl gazed at Hermione observantly before her head twisted back to Harry and nodded sagely. Harry gestured Hermione to come closer and she did. Hedwig lifted one of her legs and Hermione proceeded to delicately tie the letter to it. When she was finished, Hermione softly stroked Hedwig, "Thank you Hedwig."

Hedwig pecked Harry's and Hermione's fingers before taking flight. As she flew away, the various owls of the Owlery watched her exit from the tower until she was no longer in sight. Suddenly, the owls began chattering amongst one another and no longer paid heed of the two humans in their sanctum.

When Harry and Hermione left the tower, Hermione turned to Harry and asked, "What was _that_ all about that in there?"

Harry chuckled, "Oh _that_. I was a bit surprised myself when I first saw it. I think Hedwig somehow became the leader of the owls there."

"I guess that would explain why Hedwig sat on her stand like she was the Queen of England." Hermione commented, entertained by the notion, "I guess that makes you the King Harry?"

"Ha! Actually, most of the male owls there have been trying to attract Hedwig to be their mate. But you know Hedwig, she won't settle for anything but the best."

"And that's how a woman should be, never settle for anything less than the best! Hedwig definitely deserves more than just a regular owl. Would she care to have a phoenix as a partner? Perhaps we could set her up with Fawkes." Hermione quipped, causing Harry to burst out laughing.

They bantered back and forth, reveling the beautiful Sunday morning. As the two friends reached the last steps down the Grand Staircase, Harry spotted the Headmaster walking towards the Hospital Wing with a levitated Umbridge trailing behind him. He stopped Hermione and pointed it out to her, but she soon noticed that they were not the only one who had witnessed the event. Several other students making their way to breakfast had stopped in the halls and were whispering among themselves. Hermione caught snippets of conversations, mostly about 'Umbridge', 'Dumbledore', 'Retrieved from the Centaurs', 'Left the forest unscathed'.

"Hermione! Harry!" Ginny's voice rang among the crowd of students. She pushed through the masses, Neville and Luna following her. "We were just on our way to visit Ron and you. Did you see Dumbledore and Umbridge?"

"He came out of the Forbidden Forest without so much as a scratch on him!" Neville chimed in.

Luna wasn't too interested in the conversation as her head was in between the newest _The Quibbler_ issue that was upside down. Harry turned to Hermione, "Postpone breakfast for a bit?"

Hermione almost dismissed the idea with a 'Go on ahead without me.', but then realized it could be her chance to talk to Dumbledore. Considering the chaos at the Ministry over public knowledge of Voldemort's return, Hermione couldn't deny that the aged wizard may not have time to stay in the school for a long period of time. She had to grasp this opportunity while she can.

"Let's go then."

The five ventured off to the decisively towards the infirmary. Other students, who had already read the _Sunday Prophet_, tried to capture Harry's attention but were ignored. When they entered the Hospital Wing, Umbridge was already taking the bed opposite of Ron's like in the previous timeline while Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore were conversing over the unpleasant woman's status.

"Physically, she is a few days malnourished and dehydrated; not a lot of damage has been done to her and are easily reversible if she rests in the next few days. Although, I'm worried for her mental health; the psychological trauma from the captivity has placed her in a state of shock." Madam Pomfrey diagnosed confidently.

Dumbledore sighed dejectedly, "I see. Well then Poppy, I leave her to your care. I am confident she will heal under your watchful eye."

"Of course Albus."

The Headmaster moved to leave, but stopped when he spotted five of the Ministry Six were approaching. He gave each of them a fond smile and greeted them, "Good morning. I assume you are here to see Mr. Weasley? Ah! Miss Granger, it seems you have made a fantastic recovery. I am pleased that you weren't as hurt as we all believed."

"Good morning as well Headmaster." Harry said rigidly, "Is _she_ alright?"

Dumbledore glanced at Umbridged and lightly frowned, "She is in shock, but will make a full recovery in a matter of days." His expression changed back to the grandfatherly visage that Hermione knew all too well, "I must be off, please inform Mr. Weasley that I hope he gets well soon."

The Headmaster passed through them and the group focused on Ron. Ginny walked over to her brother and began slapping him to wake up. As everyone attentively attempted to rouse Ron from his slumber, Hermione walked the opposite direction to chase after Dumbledore. When she walked out the doors of the Hospital Wing, Hermione spotted not too far off and immediately hastened her pace. Once she had gotten near enough, she called out to him, "Headmaster! If you're not too busy, I wish to speak to you!"

Dumbledore stopped his gait and slowly faced Hermione. He smiled gently at her as he almost always does and spoke in the same rhythmic softness that he reserved for students, "Miss Granger? I'm afraid that I am a busy man. Perhaps we could schedule a mee–"

"I'm sorry Headmaster, I can't put this off." Hermione carefully interrupted. She blushed unnoticeably, a bit embarrassed at her slightly rude conduct, "This is an important matter that I need to urgently speak to you about."

Hermione studied Dumbledore carefully. For a moment, she thought he would almost refuse her request, but with a careful look leveled on her, he nodded sagely, agreeing, "Very well Miss Granger. Please follow me to my office."

She smiled in relief and followed after Dumbledore. They arrived at the gargoyle that guarded his office, immediately letting him in without need of a password. As Hermione walked into his office after going up the spiral stairs, she was once again in awe of viewing the room. She had only been here a number of times, but the magnificence of it still surprised her. However, Hermione could not help but notice that various instruments of unknown usage and other random objects were broken all over the room. Several portraits of previous Headmasters or Headmistresses were skewed and unaligned. The tapestries and drapery were torn or flung about.

"Pardon for the mess, I have yet the time to clean up after myself. I admit that even I tend to be slothful from time to time." The Headmaster explained, chuckling at his self-deprecating remark. But Hermione knew better, she was aware that Harry had been the one who had done this mess. Dumbledore moved behind his desk and sat on his seat. He gestured for Hermione to sit on the comfortable chair in front of it which she obliged.

Dumbledore pulled out his wand and began organizing his desk somewhat; organizing knick knacks and placing papers in drawers. _The Elder Wand._ Hermione observed as she stared at the wand Dumbledore held. Careful not to stare at it too long, Hermione averted her gaze away from it and instead focused on Dumbledore's tidying.

"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked as he waved his hand towards a small bowl in front of her.

Hermione shook her head, "No thanks."

"Very well." Dumbledore levitated a piece from the bowl, vanished the wrappings, and placed one in his mouth. He basked in the taste for a few moments before he refocused on the matter at hand. He took on the posture befitting that of his position; his authoritative stature made Hermione feel somewhat nervous as she began to have second thoughts over her decision. "Well Miss Granger, what is it you need to tell me?"

Hermione stared blankly at Dumbledore and for once, she had no idea what to say. How could one tell another that she was from the future? For a sane person, you would think the one claiming to be a time traveler would be absolutely insane. But then again, it was not impossible to travel through time as her Third Year indicated. Besides, wasn't Dumbledore a prolific scholar? Surely there was a possibility that he would be open to seemingly impossible things. However, regardless of how rational she was being in her head, her lips could not effectively relay that. In fact, she had said, awkwardly at that, something so utterly simple,

"Headmaster, I'm from two years in the future."


	5. Chapter V

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note**: A little anachronism in this chapter. I used the Millennium Bridge from the films instead of the Brockdale Bridge. For a little history lesson, the bridge's construction didn't began until late 1998; it finished in 2000. However, in this story of mine, I made it that it was already created. I have something in store for it later on.

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter V**

"Miss Granger, I have trouble believing your claim." Dumbledore confessed after a few terse moments of silence.

Hermione sighed, fully aware that not even the Headmaster would immediately see what she said as proof. She observed his reaction, noting that Dumbledore remained perfectly in control of his emotions, leaving no obvious signs that he had been surprised. However, Hermione saw that Dumbledore's eyes lit up with slight amusement and she wondered if the old man thought that she was mental. Hermione took rein of her ire and remained composed; a dramatic change from the worried stance she had at the beginning.

"I assure you that what I am saying is the truth. May I explain to you how I was sent back to the past?" Hermione asked, her voice was calm and leveled.

The Headmaster bowed his head, "That would be the best."

"Good." Hermione released a sigh and then began her tale, "Two years from now, I was at Hogwarts fighting against Voldemort's forces. It was the climactic battle that would determine whether the Light or Dark won. I was in a duel with Bellatrix Lestrange. Unfortunately, I was at a handicap because I was using her wand against her after having lost mine months ago. Ginny and Luna came to my aid, but Bellatrix cast the Killing Curse on Ginny." Her heart pounded against her chest, vividly remembering Bellatrix's cruel laughter as she was about to meet her end, "And I jumped in the way to save her and was hit by the curse."

"That is rather unfortunate Miss Granger. You have displayed true courage and valor. But, I am still unsure how you arrived back at this time if what you say is correct."

"I was just getting to that." Hermione fired back indignantly, "I'm sorry. It's difficult to even think about how I died. It is all very strange."

"I can only imagine." Dumbledore answered sympathetically, waiting patiently to give Hermione to recover.

"When I came to, I was in an odd place. I was at King's Cross Station except that it was fully white. And in there, I met Harry's mother, Lily." This time, Dumbledore did not hide the shock on his face, "We talked and she gave me advice." Hermione wasn't comfortable telling Dumbledore the private conversation they had. "Lily told me I was given a second chance. When I accepted it, everything began to dissolve. Then, I woke up. Yesterday actually."

"Fascinating." The Headmaster simply gazed at Hermione, studying her as if she was a new specimen, "While I don't doubt your sincerity Miss Granger, do you have any proof that what you say is indeed true instead of what may have been a hallucination in your injured state?"

Her emotions were running high and Hermione almost wanted to shout at the Headmaster for not simply believing her. Fortunately, Hermione kept her calm. She knew that it was healthy to be a little skeptic and she couldn't fault the logic Dumbledore followed. It could have very well been a hallucination, but Hermione knew better. Locking eyes with Dumbledore, Hermione revealed a closely guarded secret, "I know about the Horcruxes Dumbledore. In fact, in my timeline, we destroyed them all."

Immediately, Dumbledore's face became alarmed. He stood up and drew the Elder Wand. For a moment, Hermione thought he was about to point it at her and brought her wand out, but instead, Dumbledore silently cast a spell around them. Silence ensued as Dumbledore sat back down and gazed gravely at Hermione, "This is a very serious matter Miss Granger. How do you know of those devices?"

It was then that Hermione knew why Voldemort feared Dumbledore. His entire stature shifted away from his role as a Headmaster or a politician. Sitting there was the visage of the strongest wizard of their time, his eyes blazing with a solemn determination and his face hardened by countless years of battle. Hermione saw that this was the man who had taken out Grindelwald and she felt a tingling fear run down her spine. But, regardless of how terrified she felt, Hermione did not back down from Dumbledore's toppling stare and instead eyed him with the same ferocity.

"You told Harry next school year, and in turn, he told me. Ron, Harry, and I spent our entire Seventh Year traveling throughout the countryside finding and destroying them all with the Sword of Gryffindor. There were six: Slytherin's Locket, Ravenclaw's Diadem, Hufflepuff's Cup, Tom Riddle's Diary, the Gaunt Ring, and his familiar, Nagini."

Dumbledore's mighty form crumbled and he sagged into his chair. He brought his palm to his face and muttered, "He had created that many?"

"Yes, but fortunately, I know where each of them is, except the diary, which had already been destroyed." Hermione confessed earnestly, pride and hope displayed in her fervent brown eyes.

The Headmaster gaped in awe, "Were you able to defeat Tom?"

"Harry did, yes." Hermione smiled sadly, "But I was already dead when he did."

"This is remarkable! Miss Granger, I believe with this knowledge, we can very well change the tide of this war without the loss of so many innocent lives!"

"Yes, but Headmaster, I also have knowledge of what is to come. You must continue to listen."

Dumbledore nodded, "Ah yes. My apologies for my erratic behavior. I have always struggled; to be handed the key to defeating the Dark Lord is nothing short of a miracle."

Hermione knew that with her forethought, she would be saving countless lives. However, she was also too aware that she was meddling with time. She remembered the warning Professor McGonagall gave to her regarding the use of the time-turner and how catastrophic it may be alter events. What if the alternative to her future was something far worse?

"Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

"In the beginning of this coming summer, Voldemort, himself, will personally see to it that Madam Bones is killed. He will also send Death Eaters to destroy a prominent bridge in muggle London and in the West Country; he will cause chaos with his Giants allies. The later in the summer, Death Eaters will kidnap Mr. Ollivander." Hermione whispered all in one breath. She felt so relieved to get everything off her chest, but she wondered if the Headmaster had understood everything she had said.

"That is…" Dumbledore faltered slightly, processing through the overload of information he was given.

"…troubling?" Hermione supplied.

Dumbledore's head dipped in agreement, "Yes. When one receives news of such magnitude, one tends to be overwhelmed. Shall we reiterate this information in chronological order?"

Hermione acquiesced and steeled herself, "Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement will be killed by Voldemort personally in her own home."

"Do you recall the date?"

"Unfortunately I can't." Hermione frowned. To her it had been nearly two years since it happened. She had great memory, but she wasn't eidetic.

"I see. Be that as it may, I hope you are pleased to note that I can make arrangements to assure her safety. It would be a terribly loss to the community if she is gone."

"It is, her replacement, Pious Thicknesse was under the Imperius Curse and was forced to join the Death Eaters." Hermione revealed.

"Even more unfortunate." Dumbledore shook his head melancholy, "Now, what else do you know?"

"Well there was…" Hermione's eyes widened as she immediately remembered another person who had been killed in the summer of 1996, "Emmeline Vance! She's an Order member isn't she? She was killed by Death Eaters near the Prime Minister's residence."

Alarmed Dumbledore leaned forward, "Miss Granger, are you positive? Miss Vance is a very talented witch. She is a renowned Curse Breaker and a talented duelist; her death will strike a heavy blow to the Order."

"Yes Headmaster, I wouldn't lie about this. Nor will I lie about the destruction of a bridge in London. The bridge is called the Millennium Bridge over the River Thames. Over fifty muggles were killed in the disaster." Hermione cupped her chin as she tried to remember any further details, "Oh! Voldemort issued an order for Minister Fudge to resign. When he refused, Voldemort destroyed the bridge. He stepped down not too long after that and Rufus Scrimgeour took his place."

"Rufus is a good man, and a talented Head Auror. Surely he would have made a good replacement to Cornelius." Dumbledore commented, contemplation marring his expression.

However, Hermione fervently shook her head, "No. He made the same mistake as Minister Fudge did and tried to keep appearances of safety and comfort instead of taking action. His lack of proactive policies led to Death Eaters infiltrating the Ministry and staging a coup d'état in the fall of 1997.

"Anyway, after the bridge incident, several attacks were made in the West Country caused by the Death Eaters and their Giant allies. Muggles thought of it as a hurricane as the devastation wiped out many villages. Then later this summer, Mr. Ollivander would be kidnapped so he can be interrogated about _Priori Incantantem_."

Dumbledore reached forward towards the bowl of lemon drops and took a piece into his mouth. He sat back on his chair, his brows creasing as he contemplated. Hermione also relaxed into her seat, she was already tired despite having only woken up just a couple of hours earlier. She wondered if she would be missed by her friends, but she was sure that they would one another entertained rather than looking after her.

"It seems…" Dumbledore began, "…that an emergency Order meeting is needed. Miss Granger, you have given me much to think over. But rest assured I will do whatever it takes to prevent these events from happening."

"That's not all Headmaster." Hermione spoke softly, "At the end of my Sixth Year, you were killed."

The palpation of the office was tense. The air thickened and Hermione felt like she was going to choke. The Headmaster stared at her with incredulity; Hermione surmised that he was going through the phase of denial to accepting the information.

"Surely you jest?" Dumbledore whispered weakly.

Hermione stared at the Headmaster in surprise at such a dispassionate tone. In front of her wasn't the leader of Light she often saw or the powerful wizard that had been before her just moments ago; instead, she was met with a frail old man who looked ready to drop. Whatever composure the Headmaster had was gone and it seemed his face would remain in a perpetual frown.

"I assume that my death is the reason why Voldemort had taken such bold steps as taking over the Ministry and waged an open war?"

"Yes. Shall I explain how you died?"

Dumbledore acceded with a wave of his hand. Hermione saw then that the Headmaster was not an infallible being. He was just as human as the rest of them. Hermione saw what he really was, a man who had been strung up so high in the eyes of the public that he could not bear to bring himself down from the spotlight. He was, indeed, a beacon of hope to the rest of society and it was because of his passionate duty to the magical community that led him to remain a hero. She wondered if that was the fate Harry would have after his victory over Voldemort? She felt pity for her Headmaster. No matter how modest Dumbledore was, he truly knew how important his station in society was. Even the smallest of his mistakes would make a rippling effect in the Wizarding world.

Hermione no longer saw Dumbledore as a legendary figure as she had viewed him to be in her younger years. He was a man worthy of her respect and trust. However, now she knew she must never fully place the entire burden of problems on his shoulders. She had to do her own part instead of completely relying on the Headmaster. Hermione had done the same to Harry didn't she? Why should she follow the prophecy that only Harry could defeat Voldemort? No, she shouldn't have done that. It was time to use her own strength when it called for it instead of helplessly waiting for someone else.

"Headmaster, this is what Harry had told me. During the summer, you will go after the Gaunt ring, one of the Horcruxes. Once you obtained it, you placed it on your finger, causing a curse to be placed on you. You were given only a year to live, so over the course of my Sixth Year, you began teaching Harry about the Horcruxes so that he can take your quest. Near the end of Sixth Year, Death Eaters managed to invade the castle and Severus Snape was the one who dealt the killing curse on you.

"I have nothing but the utmost respect of you sir, and I am more than willing to give you the location of the Horcruxes. However, I need you to promise me something."

Dumbledore was on the verge of remarking that he fully trusted Snape, but stopped when Hermione expressed terms for what she knew, "I will do what I can Miss Granger."

His answer didn't please Hermione, but she relented, "The only reason why Harry, Ron, and I managed to destroy the Horcruxes was because we had each other. Without us there for each other, we would have fell prey to the dark effects of the vile objects. I need you to promise that you do not foolishly risk your life by going alone."

"But we must keep the knowledge of the Horcruxes to a minimum Miss Granger, surely you don't mean to –"

"You _cannot_ do this alone Headmaster. Do you not have people you can trust? Professor McGonagall? Professor Flitwick? Professor Snape? Your death was the very reason why the entire world turned to Harry and caused Voldemort to act so boldly. Harry was nearly destroyed by the pressure of this monumental task. Until the time comes when every single witch and wizard can stand up for themselves without the aid of a hero such as yourself or Harry, then you must stay alive as long as possible or at least until Voldemort is defeated." Hermione passionately cried out, her words uncharacteristically charismatic. When Hermione realized that she had shouted in front of the most revered figure in the Wizarding world, she felt absolute pride out of her action instead of the shame or embarrassment she expected.

Dumbledore looked as if he had been struck. He eyed the younger witch warily, clearly astonished by Hermione's bold words. The Headmaster cleared his throat, "You are a very strong-willed individual Miss Granger. However, do you really have little faith of the community?"

"I don't see the world in rose-tinted glasses anymore Headmaster." Hermione muttered bitterly, "Surely you know the effect of your presence don't you?"

"I'm all too aware. Let us not presume any different." Dumbledore sighed, "Since you are so fervent on the matter, I promise I will take all the necessary precautions and bring along another individual whom I can trust. I also will ensure to prepare for all those other events you have explained. Will that ease your worries?"

She shook her head, "No. It's already a risk telling you all this. But if there is a sliver of a chance to save more lives, then I will do what's necessary. Nevertheless, I'm grateful you listened."

"Is that all Miss Granger?"

"There's one other matter." Hermione began, "I'm well-aware of the blood wards at Harry's home. From what information I gathered, I understand that it would take two weeks for the wards to recharge and keep Harry safe. But after those two weeks, can Harry come to live with me for the rest of the summer?"

Dumbledore stroked his fine beard as he pondered over the matter, "What of the Weasleys? Surely Harry would want to spend time with young Ronald?"

"Headmaster." She said icily as she was reminded of Dumbledore's part in Harry's depressive state, "I know you told Harry the bombshell of the prophecy soon after Sirius's death. I don't know what you were thinking, but you nearly broke him. He needs time to grieve over Sirius and spend time as a normal teenager instead of being what the public believe he is. In order to do that, he wants to get away from magic for a little while and stay within a stable environment. Where else then my home?"

"I admit, my relaying of Harry's fate had questionable timing, but it had to be done." Dumbledore defended, clearly no longer surprised by the amount of knowledge that Hermione contained, "My only concern is the protection of your home. It is not uncommon for magical homes like the Burrow to have wards to prevent unwanted guests. However, you do live in a muggle community."

"I can cast the necessary protections. Harry, Ron, and I were on the run for months without getting caught." Hermione remarked casually.

"But you are not seventeen yet." Dumbledore pointed out, an amused smile on his lips, "No worries. I will do the wards. I will be the first to admit that I have made many mistakes regarding Harry's well-being. That is something I always regretted. I know that he will do well if he is with you."

"Thank you Headmaster." Hermione said curtly, smiling in relief, "I'll take my leave now. That was all I needed to say. I'll see myself out"

She rose from the chair and saw Dumbledore's typical grandfatherly visage on his face. The stress of her unveiling no longer burdened her deeply, and for that, Hermione was thankful. But as she exited the Headmaster's office, Hermione turned to look back as the gargoyle statue took its position in front of the entrance and worried. She asked herself if she was truly doing the right thing. Dumbledore was still a mortal, an exceptionally talented wizard no less. Would he succeed in changing the outcome of a terrible future or would things become much worse than before?

Hermione didn't know the answers until it happened, but she knew she had to at least try. She felt she had developed a sense of purpose that made her more driven after her arrival in the past. However, no matter how much she tried to reassure herself that things would work out; Hermione felt an icy chill run down her spine and the hairs on her nape stand up.


	6. Chapter VI

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter VI**

Hermione entered the Great Hall much more relaxed than she had been when she had left the Headmaster's office. The unveiling of her foreknowledge had taken a toll on her nerves, but with the Headmaster's promise to look over the situation, she felt more at ease. Regardless, Hermione no longer saw Dumbledore as the all-powerful Headmaster that she thought he was for several years. Nevertheless, it was the right move to tell him of her knowledge. It would surely save lives, and in the end, that's all that mattered.

She pushed the thoughts of the meeting to the back of her mind, Hermione felt herself getting riled up as she recalled what transpired and it wouldn't do well to be stressed. Hermione eyed the tables in the Great Hall and quickly noticed that many were hovering over a copy of the _Daily Prophet_, presumably conversing about the revival of Voldemort. She couldn't bring herself to care what their thoughts and tuned out the incessant chatter. Slowly, Hermione made her way towards the Gryffindor table and saw Harry sitting at the usual spot talking with Neville and Ginny. Luna was nowhere to be seen, but she knew that the younger girl often went about her way independently.

Harry was the first of the group to notice her, "Hermione! Where did you go? We were worried where you went."

Hermione smiled reassuringly at her best friend, picking up the obvious worry in his voice. She took her usual seat next to him, and began placing food on her plate, speaking while she did, "Honestly Harry, I can fend for myself. I needed to have a talk with Dumbledore is all. He said it would be alright for you to stay with me during the summer."

"That's brilliant!" Harry cried out joyously.

The time traveler didn't miss the small frown that appeared on Ginny's lips briefly before she began speaking, "Hermione's house? I thought you would be coming to the Burrow."

"Well..." Harry began, a speck of annoyance appearing on his face, "I've never been to Hermione's house nor have I met her parents properly. Seems only right I should."

"You've never been to Hermione's before Harry?" Neville asked curiously, "I would have thought that you would considering how close the two of you are."

Hermione had to smile broadly at that comment, she was pleased whenever she was reminded that she and Harry never had the falling out they had in Sixth Year. "Can't be helped Neville. All Harry has is Quidditch on the mind." Hermione chided affectionately as she elbowed Harry lightly.

Harry rolled his eyes, "I'm a bloke. Ron's a bloke. So Ron and I do bloke things. It's only natural I want to spend time with Ron at the Burrow."

"So you see Neville, Harry is just afraid that I'm going to force him into frilly dresses and do each other's make-up. Granted, I might put him a dress, but surely he would know by now that I detest make-up."

The seriousness in Hermione's tone tagged along with her statements easily made the four of them break out into a fit of laughter. As the laughing ended, conversations broke off into pairs. Neville's attention was diverted to Hannah Abbot who had come over to converse about the Herbology O.W.L. Meanwhile, Harry's and Ginny's topic of conversation was next term's Quidditch try-outs.

As she ate her breakfast, Hermione studied her best friend and the red-headed girl she came to see as a pseudo-sister. Hermione wondered if a relationship between the two would flourish once again in this new timeline. Perhaps they were destined lovers; meant to be together for all time. If Harry found happiness with Ginny, then of course Hermione would be happy for them. Now, seeing them together without anything distracting her, it just felt _wrong_. For some reason, Hermione could not picture them as a married couple.

The two of them were hotheaded to say the least. Neither of them were the type to back down from what they thought was right, and often, their tempers would clash. It had been amazing when Ginny was able to calm Harry down. However, was that really the case of a workable relationship. As far as she could remember, they had only dated for a few weeks and even then, it was just kissing. One could hardly call that love. Then, looking at Ginny, she could see a minor resemblance of Lily Evans. But if that was true, then that would mean that Harry was attracted to a look-alike of his mother. If so, did Harry become attracted to Ginny out of a subconscious whim to be close to someone that were among his choices of a parental figure. Was it Sirius's death that pushed Harry to develop a mild Oedipus Complex?

Perhaps she was over thinking things. While she could claim that she was the closest to Harry, was she close enough to really know his psyche? _Maybe, or perhaps I'm being too arrogant. _Hermione idly thought as she gulped down the last of her breakfast. While she could make a dozen theories as to why Harry became attracted to Ginny, there was no definite evidence one way or the other to prove any of them. For now, she would simply be content and see how things played out. Perhaps Harry wouldn't fall for Ginny this time. _But why do I feel so smug and confident about it?_ Hermione asked herself.

"Finished?" Harry suddenly asked her, his attention focused solely on her now.

Hermione looked down at her empty plate and nodded, "Yes. Do you still want to go for the walk around the lake?"

"Yeah. Let's get going. We'll see you in a bit Ginny, Neville."

The two of them stood up simultaneously much to Hermione's amusement. They made their farewells to Neville and Ginny; Hermione noticed the envious stare Ginny pointed at their direction as they walked off. While Harry may not have noticed, Hermione always knew, even in the previous timeline, that Ginny was jealous of their closeness. It wasn't just her either though, Lavender and Parvati had also once mentioned of their envy one evening some odd years ago. Not to mention that there were several others in Gryffindor alone that carried a torch for Harry who was envious. She had already grown far too used to it. Hermione couldn't believe how thickheaded Harry could be when it came to the opposite sex. Then again, should she be surprised?

"So, did Dumbledore really say I could stay?" Harry asked as soon as they made it outside, his eyes shifting about nervously.

Hermione grinned knowingly, unfazed how typical Harry's behavior was. Honestly, how could anyone say she was the worrywart of the trio when it was clear that Harry did twice as much? Her hand found his forearm and gently rubbed it reassuringly, "Hey. Would I lie to you about something like this?"

Harry shook his head and sighed tiredly, "No. You wouldn't." Then, underneath his breath, Harry muttered quietly, "I'm just used to disappointment."

Hermione turned to her best friend, hearing the almost silent words he let out. She wanted to make a comment about it, but changed her mind. There was a time and place for it, but it wasn't yet.

The pair took off to towards the lake, enjoying the fresh morning of early summer. Streams of clouds hung overhead, blotting the bright sun, effectively reducing the overabundant brightness to a glowing brilliance. The Scotland wind rolled pass in a gentle caress, like the hushed breath of a lover whispering sweet nothings. The shoreline of the Black Lake sparkled welcoming the two teens; and the dreary lake that they often seen during the Autumn and Winter months gave way to a shimmering mass of water that was waiting to be enjoyed.

"Wow." Hermione said in awe, "I'm glad we planned this Harry. Today is such a beautiful day."

"I'm glad I did. Knowing you, you probably would have been studying for the upcoming year."

"Oh hush." Hermione rolled her eyes, but she couldn't fault Harry for what he had just said. During the first time around, she did just that. After all, one couldn't do much in the Hospital wing lying in bed. However, she couldn't believed she missed some of the beauty of the scenery around them. Where was the bright-eyed eleven year old girl whose mouth gaped in excitement as the boat neared the wonderful castle? It was a pity she missed so much because she failed to open her eyes once in awhile.

Harry came up behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder, "Hermione?"

"Sssh." Hermione shushed gently, "Just enjoy the view Harry. Sometimes we get so caught up with everything that we forget to look around once in awhile."

The two of them sat down on the sand against a large rock that had been nearby. Habitually, they shifted into a much more comfortable position, remaining unaware that they had done so. Hermione leaned her head against Harry's shoulder, staring at the ripples of the lake. Below, she noticed Harry's fingers fidgeted with one another, a sure sign that Harry was deep in thought.

Unintentionally, Neville's words repeated themselves in her head. _'You've never been to Hermione's before Harry? I would have thought that you would considering how close the two of you are.'_ What Neville had said got to her. Why didn't Harry ever join her for the summer at her own home? It wasn't as if she never offered. She have always done so since they first became friends. Hermione knew Harry thought the Weasleys to be a second family, but, honestly, why did he never bother to at least come over at least once?

"Harry, why is it you never wanted to visit until now?" Hermione asked curtly. She wasn't angry or irritated; curious was a better term to describe what she felt.

It took a while before Harry answered, his thoughts and feelings conflicting with one another as he attempted to piece together what he wanted to be said. It was a full minute before Harry replied, "To be honest, I was afraid."

Hermione was clearly alarmed by Harry's honest remark. Out of all the things she expected was the answer, she didn't think it would be that of all reasons. "What do you mean Harry?" The anxiety easily recognizable in her voice.

"Don't take it the wrong way, but..." Harry paused and ran his hand through his hair, "I didn't want to meet your parents. I was worried that maybe they would dislike me. I don't know how to tell you this, but I'm a little afraid of muggles because of my...because of my relatives."

Hermione frowned, moving off of his shoulder to meet him face to face. She didn't know how rough his home life truly was; he had kept mum even during the Horcrux hunt and she often speculated whether or not she should confront him about it. But even so, it was not her place to prod him to reveal all his secrets at once. Whatever happened, he would tell her with time and only when he was ready. Nevertheless, Hermione engulfed Harry in a fierce hug, "Harry. My parents are nothing like the Dursleys. They may be a little rough around the edges when you first meet them, but just give it time, and they'll see how great of a person you are as I do."

They stayed together in one each other's arms for a bit before disentangling themselves. Harry looked noticeably better and he voiced it out loud, "Thanks. I guess I was always worried about that. You don't talk about your parents often, so I could never get a clear idea what they're like." Hermione's face flushed. "Hermione, why...is it you don't talk much about your parents?"

She sighed tiredly and leaned back against the boulder, "You know how I told you I wanted to spend more time with my parents this year?" Harry nodded. "Well, my parents and I don't exactly have the closest of relationships. Not even before I found out I was a witch and decided to attend Hogwarts. I knew they love me well enough, and I could feel it, but I think they always had trouble expressing it. It's not like we ever had similar interests.

"But, ever since I was young, I would always have a nanny as my parents were often too busy to take care of me. I was often alone, and it didn't help that I didn't have any friends at school anyway. So I took to books as you already know. However, things change, I find out I'm a witch and I head off to Hogwarts. I wrote them letters well enough, but it was always a customary thing really.

"They were very open with my magic and fully supported me. I think it was after I started going to Hogwarts that they realized how little they connected with their only daughter. So, every summer, they always plan a holiday to spend time as a family. Well, as you know, I started going to the Burrow more and more, skiving off time with them. At first, I blamed my parents for not understanding who I am. But..."

A single tear rolled down Hermione's eye as, for the first time, she revealed how strained she really was with her parents. How, through her actions, ultimately led her to committing the atrocious act of wiping all their memories of her. While she rationalized that it was for their own safety, Hermione felt no more justification doing it then someone gleefully executing the Cruciatus Curse on a person.

"I realized, it wasn't their fault. It was mine. The reason they don't understand is because I don't let them try. It was always about what I wanted! It was my own fault that we're so distant from each other. They tried to put in the effort, but it was something I never did."

Nothing was said between them. Harry wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulder and pulled her close, gently stroking her arm in an effort to calm her down. Hermione was truly grateful, and she felt her chest much lighter now that she told someone about her own problems. In fact, she was glad that it was Harry that she unveiled this all to. The one thing she loved about Harry was his genuine acceptance and care for his friends.

"Thanks. For listening to all that." Hermione softly said.

Harry grinned, "No, I'm glad you told me. I never really knew." His face fell, "I'm so selfish."

"Harry, you're the most generous person I know! You're not at all sel-"

"No, listen." Harry raised his palm, interrupting Hermione's vocal disagreement, "I am. I realized how stubbornly selfish I am. This year showed how immature and pathetic I really am. Don't say I'm brave, I'm just foolish Hermione! You told me that it was a trap, and I didn't listen. I even made a mess of Dumbledore's office because he..." Harry stopped there, and Hermione realized he wasn't ready to reveal the prophecy to her just yet. "...either way. I'm not brave. I'm just a stubborn teen who has to do things his way. What kind of leader am I who doesn't listen to the advice of good people? Because of me Sirius is...dead."

"That wasn't your fault Harry. You know that -"

"It was Hermione. I have to accept it. I'm just a regular boy who is just in over his head. All I do is care about my own problems. I never...I never appreciated how lucky I am to be friends with Hermione. It just annoys me that we're best friends and yet, this is the first time we ever talked how _you _feel. What does that make me Hermione?"

Hermione stared at Harry whose sullen expression nearly broke her heart. She bit the bottom of her lip as she thought over what she wanted to say. She took his hand and planted a soft kiss on his knuckles like he had done to her a few nights back. The gentle touch made him face her, seeing a small smile and a warm gleam coming from her eyes, "Harry. It means you're just human. You're not the Boy Who Lived or the Gryffindor Golden Boy. You're just Harry. There's things about you that you don't like about yourself. What are you going to do about it?"

As he stopped to mull over what she said. Hermione stood up from the ground and removed her school robes. She tossed it over to where she had sat and began removing her shoes as well. Hermione looked down at her pants and began rolling it up until it was just slightly below her knees.

"What are you doing?" Harry questioned innocently.

Hermione smirked at him, "As much as I love talking to you Harry, I'm getting a little tired of our pity fest. Today's a beautiful day, let's enjoy it." She crossed his arms and gazed at him. He eyed her confused and Hermione simply huffed. "Take off your robes! We're going to take a dip in the lake. It's getting much too hot lately."

"But I don't have any trunks." Harry complained.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "We're not going to actually swim. Now come on!"

She rushed onto the shore and walked over to the ankle deep water. Hermione observed Harry frantically trying to hurry as he clumsily removed his robes. After rolling up his sleeves and pants, he rushed into the water, only to be gleefully splashed once he had gotten close.

Harry spat the water that made its way into his mouth, "Hey!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you, with your Seeker reflexes, could have avoided that." Hermione mockingly commented.

Her best friend glared at her and then grinned mischievously. Suddenly, a larger splash of water suddenly enveloped Hermione. It was now war. The two friends continued to play on the lake, oblivious to their surroundings as they enjoyed the childish fun they were having. Several onlookers watched them from a distance, genuinely amused by the spectacle, but made no movement to interrupt or join the pair.

It was around lunch when the two stopped. They dried their clothes that had been entirely drenched by then with a simple spell. The only evidence of their activity was the damp hair they sported; both knew full well what would happen if they attempted to use a spell to dry their hair, it would just lead them to have much messier and bushier hair than normal. The two of them entered the castle once more and the faint rumble of Harry's stomach was heard as they caught the faint scent of food coming from the Great Hall.

"I think I'm going to have some lunch and visit Ron. Coming along?"

Hermione chuckled at Harry's appetite, "I'm still full from breakfast. I think I'm going to get started on my packing. Meet you in the Hospital Wing later?"

"Maybe, I don't think I'll stay too long. I think I'll relax in the Room of Requirement afterward. And packing already? Of course _you _would do that." He chided gently, playfully elbowing her arm.

"Prat." Hermione admonished lightly, "I'm just going to run an inventory is all. I'll see you in the Room then."

"Sounds great then. See you soon Hermione."

Harry walked away towards the Great Hall for lunch, turning back slightly to wave at Hermione. As Hermione watched him leave, she couldn't help notice how broad Harry's shoulders looked. He no longer walked with a subdued slouch as he strode animatedly from place to place. Instead, Harry walked at his full height and Hermione carefully noted how tall Harry was becoming.

_Harry's already becoming more fanciable than ever._ Hermione smiled to herself, _He _really _is attractive._

Blushing slightly from her slightly whimsical thoughts, Hermione began walking back to her dorm. She was starting to grow much more closer to Harry than before, and she was loving every moment of it.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Thus begins the path to Harry becoming the hero he should have been and Hermione's feelings for Harry shifting from that of friendship to romantic love. I would like to thank all those messaged me about possibilities where Hermione may live. I'm not going to outright mention it, but it was nice to have a good visual of what 'home' is to Hermione.

Also, I would like to advertise a recent Harry/Hermione fanfiction I've read recently on _Portkey_ titled _Full Circle_ by **Crazy Mishka**. It's an original take on the whole time traveling aspect and is wickedly different from what I've seen. It just recently updated so I'm confident to say that it's an active _In-Progress_ work.


	7. Chapter VII

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note**: There will always be information Hermione wouldn't know because she wasn't there. As everyone is aware, the series was from Harry's point of view. However, I attempted to have Hermione logically think through things and I hope I did her brilliant mind justice. Also, a key phrase to remember when reading this chapter: _Memory isn't logical._

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter VII**

The days leading up to the last official day of the school year rolled by without much incident or notable events. Ron left the Hospital Wing three days before term ended and stuck close to Harry in order to make up for lost time in order to enjoy their final days of their O.W.L. Year. And like in the original timeline, Umbridge left Hogwarts a day before. While Hermione knew the monstrous acts that horrible woman was capable of doing, she would have no power in the coming days unless the Ministry fell to the Death Eaters; something that will not happen again.

It was breakfast and the Great Hall was in Festive Spirits. The combination of the departure of Umbridge, the return of McGonagall, and that tomorrow they would finally be heading home was enough for even the meekest of students to become rambunctious. However, Hermione could not simply get into the swing of things. Her thoughts were focused upon the letter that would be arriving soon that would make or break the arrangement she made with Harry.

Harry noticed her anxiety and cocked his eyebrow questioningly. She passed off a grateful smile and shook her head. He frowned, but nodded and tuned in back to the conversation he was having with Ron about their summer plans and the upcoming school year. Hermione toyed with her food, not feeling particularly hungry. As minutes ticked by, Hermione heard the familiar _swish_ of the owls gliding into the Great Hall. Her eyes carefully searched each and every single owl that flew by until her gaze settled upon a single, snow white owl.

Hedwig regally swooped down and landed with graceful ease in front of Hermione. Her chest was puffed out as she raised her leg in a dignified manner. With a hoot, she pecked Hermione affectionately. Hermione began untying the letter from the owl's leg, being careful not to harm her in her haste. Once it was untied, the owl moved closer to Harry who had sat next to Hermione and awaited patiently for her master to treat her to some bacon.

As Harry fed Hedwig and played with her, Hermione opened the envelop and pulled out the letter inside. She unfolded the piece of parchment and began reading the answer from her parents:

_Dear Hermione,_

_Your father and I decided that we would love to have Harry stay with us. It would be nice to get to know one of your friends and have him over. We're also really happy that you wanted to stay home with us this summer. Your father and I haven't planned any trips because we assumed you would want to be with your friends again. I know you're at that age when you wouldn't want anything to do with your mum and dad, so we're glad that you wanted to spend time with us. We'll see you home soon._

_Love,_

_Mum_

_P.S. Once you come home, your father and I will lay down some ground rules if Harry is to stay at our home. As much as we trust you, we know very well how kids are like at your age. One thing can lead to another after all._

By the end of the letter, Hermione had underwent overwhelming joy to total embarrassment. While the concept of sexual intercourse brushed her mind from time to time, she never imagined her mother would propose that she would be willing to do something like that! Nevertheless, she was glad that her parents decided to allow Harry to stay over. Whatever those rules her parents wanted enforced, she could live with it if it meant a summer with her best friend.

"Is something wrong Hermione?" Harry asked, staring at the dark blush on her cheeks.

"No, no! Everything's perfect!" Hermione swiftly replied, "My mum and dad said you can stay! Wouldn't this be exciting Harry!"

Harry grinned from ear to ear as he heard the news and whooped in joy, "That's great! At least now I have something to look forward to after two weeks with the _Dursleys_." He mentioned his relatives in distaste.

Hermione had told him that the condition set upon by Dumbledore was for him to stay at the Dursleys for two weeks in order to recharge the blood wards that protected him from Death Eaters. To her surprise, Harry had taken it surprisingly well and understood the need for the protection. While Hermione didn't know the technical details of the wards, she had to trust Dumbledore that it did what it was supposed to do and protect him Voldemort. She hypothesized that it protected him from attacks made by sentient beings at the level of human intelligence. Otherwise, the dementors, beings who are not as sentient, would not have managed to attack Harry and his cousin.

Lately, as she began reviewing the information she knew of Dumbledore, she was slowly becoming reluctant to trust him. He was as skilled in guile and deception as  
>any politician and was considered as one of the most foremost magical scholar in Europe. There was no doubt that he wasn't a stranger to various machinations of manipulation. She did not know if he was a pitiable man burdened with the responsibility of the realm's denizens or a master schemer whose actions and mistakes can mold modern society.<p>

There was one thing she did know though, and that was that he was a powerful individual and on the side of Light. While he can be taken as an extremist, there was no doubt that his goals were for the betterment of the world. Either way, it was him or Voldemort, and frankly, she had seen a world if Voldemort had ruled it, and it was not something that should ever happen. However, Hermione as much as she tried to analyze the information in her head about Dumbledore and where her actions could lead, her main concern was still the well-being and safety of Harry.

"Bloody hell!" Ron cursed in surprised.

Out of habit, Hermione opened her mouth to reprimand him but stopped when she spotted the Weasley family owl, Errol, standing in front of Ron and Ginny who were behind a letter. From her seat, she could see Ginny's brow scrunched together in concentration.

Harry stopped feeding Hedwig and turned to Ron, "What's happened?"

"Apparently dad got a big bonus at work." Ron announced with a wide smile, "He's taking the family to visit Charlie!"

"Bill isn't coming though." Ginny complained, "Humph, mum says he's going to France with some bird he's dating."

Hermione smiled knowingly, knowing full well that Bill was going to France to meet Fleur's family and ultimately propose to her. She had asked Fleur before the wedding how exactly Bill had popped the question and was told that the entire meeting with her family was a ploy for Bill to ask her father for her hand and to later fulfill her dream of being asked in her childhood home's garden. It was romantic that even Hermione had to swoon at how determined Bill was to show his love for Fleur.

Hermione could see the figurative light bulb in Harry's head lit up as he said, "Wicked! You're going to see some dragons!"

"Yeah! This will be great!"

"For _you_ maybe." Ginny bitterly remarked as she crossed her arms.

Ron frowned, "What's your problem?"

"I don't want to be stuck with _you_ for a month. At least at the Burrow, I can visit Luna if I wanted to."

"How can you say that? We haven't seen Charlie since the Tri-Wizard tournament!"

"Well, why can't dad just send him the money so that he can visit us? Besides, why do we have to come anyway? Fred and George probably aren't coming because of their shop. Not to mention that we're not even on speaking terms with Percy! It would have been great if Bill could come with us, but no, he has to be with some broad that probably laced him with love potions or something!"

Ron glared angrily at his sister as the two soon began trading back and forth insults. Hermione soon lost interest in their argument and turned to Harry who just sent Hedwig back to the Owlery, "Doesn't seem like we can visit the Burrow until August."

Harry shrugged and smiled at her, "At least now I won't feel guilty about not staying over. Besides, I'm glad that Ron and Ginny get to visit their brother. Ron always says that neither of his siblings or parents see Charlie enough."

Hermione simply bowed her head and continued eating her meal. She often glanced at the two bickering siblings and wondered what had been done to alter this course of events. The Weasleys had stayed in England, not visited Romania and she hadn't recalled Arthur earning a bonus at his work. She speculated if this had been Dumbledore's doing; if so, then what was there to gain to send the Weasleys far away?

_Maybe it's to protect them._ Hermione concluded. It would certainly make sense. Without Harry staying over at the Weasleys, it meant that there would be less security at the Burrow. However, that enough wouldn't be a cause for concern. She had told Dumbledore about the assassination attempts of Amelia Bones and Emmeline Vance, a known Order of the Phoenix member among Death Eaters. Because Voldemort would target Order members, the Weasleys would be a prominent target. Then later if Cornelius Fudge steps down from Minister, then there would be an empty spot for the position. Arthur Weasley, being a Department Head, would be eligible for the position even if he didn't want to be in the seat, thus painting himself a bull's eye on his back to be killed. If things proceed as predicted within the Ministry, then a month would have to do for things to settle down.

"Hermione? Are you alright? You went quiet there."

Hermione snapped from her thoughts and whipped her head to Harry, "Huh? Oh. It's nothing Harry, I was just thinking."

Harry didn't comment and left it alone. Hermione, on the other hand, continued to think as she attempted to solve the puzzle that was the Headmaster.

Later that evening a few hours before of the End of Term Feast, Hermione was placing the last of her possessions back into her trunk. She brushed a strand of hair that fell between her eyes and then closed her chest. With a tired sigh, Hermione collapsed onto the bed next to Crookshanks and began to gently rub the part-kneazle's back. As he purred in contentment, Hermione smiled that Crookshanks still accepted her as his mistress. With her theory that her soul was transported back into the past, it was a possibility that her familiar would unconsciously sense that she was 'different' and would reject her. However, her worries were for naught as Crookshanks settled on her lap as soon as she had entered her dorm a few days before.

A young girl, no older than a First Year, appeared at the doorway of the dorm, moving about shyly as if she was treading on sacred ground. "Miss Hermione?" She called out inquiringly.

Hermione rose from her bed and recognized the girl. As a prefect, she familiarized herself with the First Years and knew that the shy girl before her was Jacqueline Graham; a muggleborn. She flashed a welcoming smile and beckoned her to come forward, "What is it Jacqueline?"

The girl blushed at being recognized and hastily placed a scrap of folded parchment into Hermione's hands, "It's from the Headmaster!"

Before Hermione could offer her thanks, young Jacqueline ran off with nary a word. She unfolded the parchment revealing Dumbledore's scrawl:

_Please visit my office immediately. _

_P.S. I rather enjoy Fizzing Whizzbees._

Hermione checked the clock; there was still time before the End of Term Feast began. She knew that Dumbledore summoned her in order to have information on the location of the Horcruxes. While they had time to discuss it in their previous meeting not too long ago, there had been a silent agreement that Dumbledore had to process what had been revealed. Considering that he may have had a hand in engineering the Weasleys' vacation, it would be plausible that he already had taken care of or formulated a strategy for the major events yet to occur.

She hurriedly moved through Hogwarts, never stopping even when others greeted her as she dashed by. As passed the final step of the Grand Staircase, she turned the corner and nearly ran into Snape. The taller man loomed over her like an ominous shadow as he simply looked down on her with the penetrating glare he perpetually seemed to have.

"Granger." He muttered with disgust; his lips twitching into a sneer, "Just because you're a prefect, you believe you're exempt from the rules?"

Hermione groaned internally, she didn't have the patience to deal with this impetuous man. She had no clue what her standing was with this wizard. A part of her hated him for his cruel mistreatment of Harry and those that he found unworthy as well as the murder of Dumbledore that led to the consequences of Death Eaters gaining the momentum of the war. While another part of her was curious that he was truly a spy for the side of light and that all his actions up until he was killed by Voldemort was all part of an elaborate scheme in order to be close to the Dark Lord's side. Regardless, she hadn't the time at the moment to come to a decision.

"Granger. Look at me." Snape growled impatiently.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sidestepped him, hurrying to the Headmaster's office. She heard Snape's cries of 'impertinent conduct to a professor' followed by the removal of twenty points from Gryffindor., but Hermione hardly cared. As she stepped up in front of the gargoyle that presided over the entrance of the office, Snape's earlier words opened up a cascade of memories of a past not too long ago.

* * *

><p><em>Hermione made sure that the flask was full to the brim, she wanted to make sure that she had gathered all the memories that she could. She wondered who Snape really was underneath all the lies and deceit. Hermione watched with curiosity as Snape pulled Harry close, their gaze locking at one another. <em>

"_Look...at...me..." He whispered._

_Then, Snape's hand fell to the floor and his heaving chest stopped. Snape was dead._

* * *

><p><em>Hermione could hear Voldemort's voice surround her, it reverberated from the walls and floor. She immediately recognized that a variation of the sonorous charm was being used. Her heart nearly stopped when she heard,<em>

"_I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest..."_

_Panic consumed her as her hand tightened up to a ball. She could feel her nails piercing into the skin, but Hermione could not feel the pain. Her entire body was focused on her best friend, "It'll be all right," said she manically, "Let's – let's get back to the castle, if he's gone to the forest we'll need to think of a new plan -"_

_She glanced at Snape's corpse and moved to the tunnel entrance. Hermione looked back at Harry, his eyes set with determination. She knew _that _look. Harry was going to give himself up. _He wouldn't. We're going to think of a plan. _Hermione continuously told herself in her head; it was her mantra of denial. But even as she repeated the line over and over again, she couldn't shake off the image of Harry's resolute face appearing in her mind._

* * *

><p><em>Ginny cried into her shoulders; the young girl weeping over the loss of her brother, Fred. Hermione wrapped her arms around Ginny and gently rubbed her back soothingly. The Weasley daughter had turned to her for comfort as Molly sobbed hysterically over the unmoving body of her son. George stood close to his twin, his eyes blank with emotion as if half of his entire being was torn from him; in a way, that was an accurate description. Percy and Ron were whispering quietly to George, their voices soft and barely audible. Behind her, Hermione could make out a conversation between Bill, Arthur, and Fleur. It was astounding how they were able to keep their calm regardless of the loss of a relative.<em>

_Gradually, Ginny stopped her tears and clung tighter to Hermione, appreciating the warmth of the older woman. Hermione continued to carefully study the Great Hall, her gaze roaming from group to group of students, faculty, and other fighters who answered the call to arms with diligence. However, she soon noticed an important individual that had disappeared. Hermione gasped,_

"_Where's Harry?"_

* * *

><p><em>Hermione flipped through the pages of the tome that contained relevant information to the Horcruxes. However, as she learned more about the vile devices, the more disgusted she felt. These things were utter abominations. The sheer fact that the first step was to murder someone in order to split the soul was atrocious. But she persevered as they needed all the knowledge regarding them. However, it was odd that no matter how much she looked over the research material before her, there was no given information on what the next step was in the creation process. It held nothing further to fully create one. There was no information on the risks. No information on the dangers if the caster did not have a controlled environment to creating one. And most importantly, no information on whether or not there was an alternative means of destroying a Horcrux aside from the Sword of Gryffindor! <em>

_Hermione sighed and turned the page back to the starting procedure. She read it over once more and then pinched the bridge of her nose and grumbled, "How does one remove the soul and place it into the container after the murder in the first place? This is entirely useless; it's full of holes."_

* * *

><p><em>Hermione's shoulders sagged and she easily felt the guilt weighing down on her, "No. I hadn't been a good friend to him in two years. I was afraid to lose him, so I pushed him away. Even when we were alone in the tent, I still continued to distance myself from him even though I knew how much he wanted to comfort me. Then, he died. And I knew then how much I failed him." Her body began to tremble as tears began to fall. In grief, she cried, "I don't deserve your thanks Lily. He was my best friend and I just turned him away! He died knowing how terrible of a friend I had become!"<em>

_As Hermione sobbed, she felt Lily's arms wrap around her in a warm embrace. She heard Lily gently whisper, "Harry didn't think that. He thought of you the best friend one could possibly have. Harry lived Hermione. The Horcrux within him was destroyed and he was free to end Voldemort's reign forever."_

* * *

><p><em>Hermione clutched the books that held the sensitive secrets of a Horcrux firmly against her chest. She was both amazed and saddened that her simple plan had worked flawlessly. Amazed because it had been to acquire the materials needed for research; Hermione had casually used the summoning charm in order to retrieve it. However, she was saddened when she came to the realization as to why it had been without difficulty. Her thoughts shifted to the funeral of their beloved Headmaster and how they had entombed him eternal rest. His death affected all of them, and apparently, his magic as well. There was little doubt that whatever protections Dumbledore had placed into safeguarding the books she held, it was now gone due to his death.<em>

* * *

><p><em>Dumbledore merely smiled sagely, his blue eyes twinkling, "Professor Snape has my utmost confidence."<em>

* * *

><p><em>Hermione couldn't breathe. She could do nothing but stare at <em>him_. He was just lying there, as if he was sleeping. She should just go to him, shove him until he wakes up. Then he would complain that she never let him sleep but would get up anyway. He would smile up at her with the charming grin of his and she would roll her eyes and tell him it was his turn to make breakfast. He would grumble of course, but he would do it. It was just the two of them in the tent, even if the pain of their missing friend was there. They at least had each other._

"_No!" Hermione uttered, her voice strangled as her entire body tensed with emotional shock._

_Harry Potter was dead._

* * *

><p>Everything finally clicked in her head.<p>

It was simple, so ridiculously simple. Dumbledore, after finding about the Horcruxes, delved deeply into research over its creation. He then discerned that Harry was a Horcrux himself which contributed the reason why he was able to connect to Voldemort's mind and gain the ability of parseltongue. However, Dumbledore wasn't sure so he devised the extra study lessons he provided for Harry in Sixth Year for two reasons. The first was to familiarize Harry with Horcruxes in order for him to continue on its destruction after his death. The second was to divine whether or not Harry was a Horcrux.

He was.

Then, after his suspicions were confirmed, the Headmaster knew that the Horcrux within Harry had to be destroyed, but there was no time to find a means to destroy the soul without harming Harry; therefore, Harry needed to perish. Dumbledore pulled off a gambit that Harry, with her and Ron's help, would pinpoint all the Horcruxes and destroy them. In fact, Dumbledore knew Harry had to die so he revoked any preparation on Harry's part in his Sixth Year so that Harry would ultimately die at Voldemort's hands. It would render Voldemort mortal and it would fulfill the prophecy.

Dumbledore _knew_ all along. He had manipulated them, guided them to an eventual end that suited his goals. In the end, he made Snape the harbinger of Harry's imposed fate; the memories he gave Harry held the answer of his survival. Dumbledore was well-aware that Harry would do anything in his power to stop Voldemort, and if he had to die, he would have.

And she knew exactly _why _Dumbledore did it all. It was perhaps what she considered his greatest and most terrible decision he ever made. For the sake of the entire Wizarding world, Harry had to die in order to save all their lives. How could Dumbledore, having lived through the war with Grindelwald and Voldemort's first rise, having seen the deaths of Arianna and his closest friends, weigh a single life for the life of many? Harry was a necessary pawn that needed to be sacrificed for the _Greater Good_.

But, no matter how much Hermione rationalized or justified Dumbledore's actions. She felt nothing but the cold sensation of absolute hatred upon the Headmaster. He was an intelligent, strong wizard that had to make hard choices. Hermione understood that. She understood Harry had to be gone. So she asked herself, _The world or Harry?_ The answer was simple.

_Harry _is _my world._

"Are you going to come in or aren't you?" The gargoyle snapped at her.

Hermione ignored the statuesque beast and stated the password. She passed through the entrance without more trouble. As she walked up the spiral staircase towards the Headmaster's doors, Hermione's demeanor became more reserved and calm. Her gaze held none of the loving warmth she freely gave to those around her but was replaced with the penetrating look of a soldier who lived through an atrocity. The past few days may have reminded her of the childhood she was meant to have, the realization of the actions of her timeline's Dumbledore converted her to the woman who had blasted Fenrir Greyback with an easy flick of a wand and dueled Bellatrix Lestrange to a standstill with her own wand.

Before she was able to knock on Dumbledore's door, his kindly voice drifted through the crevice, "Feel free to come in Miss Granger."

Hermione casually entered the room, striding into it in a proud and purposeful manner. Dumbledore stared at her briefly, no doubt off-guard by the changes in Hermione's behavior. The pleasantries ensued in which the Headmaster offered her a seat and lemon drops. Of course, Hermione took the seat and refused the lemon drops as per usual. Hermione took notice that the room was much cleaner than it had been since the last time; a few items were missing, but those were probably the ones Harry destroyed beyond repair.

"Miss Granger, you are looking like all those that had fought in a war." Dumbledore started, gazing at her sympathetically through his half moon glasses, "Again, I would like to apologize for what you went through."

Hermione waved away the apology dismissively, "Headmaster, with all due respect, I would prefer if we get down to business."

"Ah, as blunt as ever. It warms me to know that at least you haven't been severely affected."

"Would you like to know the locations of the Horcruxes Headmaster?"

"Yes, of course. Pardon me." Dumbledore pulled out the Elder Wand and silently cast a series of spells that would ensure their privacy, "Please, go on Miss Granger."

"I will tell you what they are, where it is, their dangers, and how to destroy them. By giving you this information, it would render Voldemort mortal and he would not even realize it." Hermione suddenly conjured a piece of parchment and summoned Dumbledore's ink and quill. She began creating a chart and writing down the Horcruxes while continuing to speak, "The first Horcrux was none other than Riddle's Diary. Fortunately, it was already destroyed in my Second Year by Harry. So, essentially, we have five Horcruxes left.

"The next Horcrux we were aware of was the Gaunt Ring found in the Gaunt Shack. My Dumbledore destroyed it. However, Harry told me that it lures you to place it on and by doing so, it unleashes a curse upon your body to suddenly decay. That was what nearly killed you.

"This next Horcrux is somewhere you can easily find it in. It's none other than Salazar Slytherin's locket and it's in Grimmauld Place. Make sure Mundungus Fletcher doesn't lift it; he later bribed Umbridge with it and it was difficult to attain it afterward. It increases the negative feelings you have just by being near it. I don't know any other effect it does. The Harry I knew did, but he never told me.

"In the Room of Requirements, if you think of a place where you can store things away, you will find the lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw. Unfortunately, Tom Riddle desecrated it and made it a Horcrux. I recommend not putting it on if it tries to draw you in.

"Voldemort also used another rare artifact for his Horcruxes. He used Helga Hufflepuff's Cup and Harry and I discovered that it was within Bellatrix Lestrange's Gringotts vault. However, I don't know if it's there now as by the time we did, Death Eaters was able to walk about openly.

"And finally, the final Horcrux is Voldemort's snake familiar, Nagini. It would no doubt be the most difficult Horcrux to destroy because of its proximity to Voldemort himself. I'm proud to say that in my timeline, it was Neville, wielding the Sword of Gryffindor that slew it and destroyed the Horcrux.

"Which leads me to how to destroy it. You can use the venom of a basilisk, the Sword of Gryffindor, or Fiendfyre to destroy the Horcruxes. I have no doubt you're capable of controlling that horrid fire spell, but the Sword of Gryffindor is an excellent alternative."

Hermione finished the last line of the chart she created and handed it over to Dumbledore when she was finished. The Headmaster looked over the information with a contemplative expression on his face. After reading, he placed the parchment down and gazed curiously at Hermione, "Is that all of the Horcruxes?"

"Of course." Hermione lied smoothly, "If he created six Horcruxes, then he would have seven pieces of his soul separated. Considering that seven is the most powerful magical number, I would assume that Voldemort would have done it this way in order to create the maximum effect of this foul magic."

"I see." Dumbledore said simply, looking down at the chart, "It appears that with this, we could prevent a disastrous war from lasting longer than it could possibly be. Miss Granger, thank you for all that you have done."

Hermione nodded curtly, "I trust you will do the right thing?"

The Headmaster beamed proudly, the grandfatherly persona appearing before her once more, "Of course." He began carefully rolling up the chart, "You are dismissed Miss Granger. I have taken enough of your time. After all it should be spent with young Harry and Ronald."

As Hermione turned her back to the Headmaster, she felt triumph wash over her. Hermione would never reveal the knowledge of Harry's status as a Horcrux to the old man. While she may trust Dumbledore to do what needed to be done for their side to win the war, she would never let him endanger Harry again. She would find her own way to eliminate the evil soul that clung to Harry like a parasite without the need of creating a martyr out of her best friend. He would not become a broken shell of his former self who could not see a future; Hermione would help guide him to reach his full potential.

Dumbledore's machinations were over, but hers was just beginning.


	8. Chapter VIII

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Author's Note**: To be honest, I think I started off pretty strong with this chapter but waned as I went along. I think I'm my own worst critic, but that's neither here or there. I want to give my Beta, _TheOddEnigma_, a huge thanks for all the hard work she has done polishing up my story. Without her, I would probably have a lot more mistakes than I should have had. Oh well! On with the story. Also, I'm a bit embarrassed that I forgot the legal age to drive is seventeen. Honestly, what kind of writer was I to forget such a crucial element? It's far too late to change that now ha ha.

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter VIII**

The train home was unremarkable compared to the match of wits she had with Dumbledore in his office the previous night. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle foolishly attempted to harass Harry, but the Slytherins had forgotten that the DA encompassed three of the four Hogwarts houses; the presence of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws that were firmly sided with Harry was enough to intimidate the three bullies. However, it wasn't anything different than previously, so she had ignored Ron's dramatic retelling of the confrontation. To pass the time, Hermione read the Quibbler much to the surprise of Luna.

"Hey, Harry," said Ron, motioning his head toward the window that saw into the corridor.

Hermione looked up from her magazine and spotted Cho passing alongside Marietta Edgecombe sporting the ridiculous looking balaclava. Suddenly, Hermione stood up, startling her friends and Cho who briefly looked within their compartment.

"Hermione, what -" Ron's voice was drowned out as Hermione moved quickly towards the door, accidentally knocking Ron's chessboard onto the floor. He cried out in shocked, but Hermione ignored him and pulled open the door, catching Cho and Marietta by surprise; the two Ravenclaws staring warily at Hermione.

Hermione raised her wand and pointed it towards Marietta, a muffled whimper escaping her throat. Cho's eyes shot opened in panic and grabbed Hermione's wand hand by the wrist hissing, "What are you doing?"

Harry came up from behind Hermione and placed his hand on her shoulder, a frown marring his face as he stared inquisitively at what was going on, "Hermione?"

"Let go, I'm only just going to remove the pimples." Hermione flatly stated indignantly, "Let me go?"

Cho released her grip on Hermione and moved to encircle her arms around her friend to comfort her. Hermione sighed and began waving her hand to perform the spell, silently chanting the incantation beneath her breath. Once she was finished, a blue light erupted from the tip of her wand and blinded everyone in the corridor for a brief second. Hermione smiled, "There. Finished."

Tentatively, Marietta removed the balaclava while Cho produce a compact mirror. The older girls looked at Marietta's forehead to find that the word 'SNEAK' was now gone from her face. A look of pure joy appeared on Marietta's face as she hugged Cho. She turned back to Hermione, eying her fearfully, "Thank you - er – Hermione."

"No problem." Hermione then stared pointedly at Marietta, "I know that you had your reasons for telling Umbridge, but it doesn't matter anymore. A war is on the horizon, and what happened then was child's play. Remember Marietta, in the real world, the punishment for betraying secrets is often death."

The girl fervently nodded. Hermione said nothing else, indicating that the conversation was finished. With one final thank you, Marietta and Cho quickly walked away from the Gryffindors' compartment. Hermione squeezed Harry's hand that was still on her shoulder and smiled at him reassuringly when she turned to walk back to her seat.

The compartment was deathly quiet when she re-entered. Neville, Luna, Ron, and Ginny were staring at her with wide eyes – or in Luna's case, wider than usual – and all opened their mouths to speak but no words came out. However, it was Luna who regained her typical demeanor first and commented, "That was very intimidating Hermione."

Hermione shrugged and sat back at her seat, "I only said the truth. She's already considered an adult, why should I coddle her? Besides, there's more important things than to hold a grudge. That punishment was unnecessary, so I simply removed it."

"What's with you lately?" Ron asked, picking up his broken chessboard while glaring at Hermione, "You bloody broke my chessboard."

"Are you a wizard or not Ron?" Hermione asked, annoyance laced in her voice.

Harry frowned at the exchange and looked worriedly at Hermione, "What Ron is trying to say is Hermione is that we're worried about you. You've been on edge since last night. Did something happen?"

She sighed, but smiled warmly at Harry for care in his words, "Nothing you should worry about. I'm just – uh – worried about my O.W.L. Scores is all. I think I may have messed up my practical because of my nerves." Hermione didn't want to mention the Horcruxes just yet, let alone the Horcrux that resided in Harry's scar.

Ron snorted, "Figures that it would be schoolwork that has Hermione riled up."

"Prat." Ginny hissed at his brother, "Is that anyway to..." She trailed off.

"So – er – Harry, was that Cho? What's going on with you and her nowadays?" Neville asked quietly, his embarrassment pervading the room for the moment. Hermione was grateful towards him for steering the conversation away from her.

"Nothing." Harry replied.

Luna lowered the magazine she was reading, "She's dating Michael Corner now."

"What? Michael? Hey Gin!" exclaimed Ron as he craned around in his seat to face his sister, "You were going out with him."

"Not anymore." Ginny stated resolutely.

Hermione tuned the rest of the conversation out, instead, she watched the scenery go by outside the window. Its rolling presence mesmerizing her tired frame as it slowly lulled her to sleep...

"Hermione. Wake up." Harry softly whispered as she felt him gently nudge her.

Slowly, Hermione opened both her eyes and stared around her as she regained her bearings. She automatically stretched and yawned, smacking her lips as she placed one arm over her head. Hermione noticed that the compartment was empty save for her and Harry. She yawned again, "Where's everyone?"

Harry grinned , "Gone ahead. I stayed behind to wake you up."

She hummed a response and began carefully picking up her belongings. Crookshanks remained on the seat, prepared to follow his mistress once Hermione was ready. As Harry picked up his trunk and Hedwig's cage, Hermione went into the corridor rubbing the sand out of her eyes.

As Harry walked out, he glanced at Hermione and asked, "I'm curious though, what's with the sundress?"

Hermione looked down at the floral-printed white sundress she wore; it had been a gift from her mother. Her mother always bought her clothes that she often didn't enjoy wearing often. Her typical style usually consisted of jeans, baggy shirts, or anything she found comfortable. When she had been younger, her mother and her aunts often dressed her up as their personal doll and as she grew older, she developed an aversion to casually wearing those types of clothing. She only wore it on special occasions, and for what she had in mind, meeting her parents once again, Hermione thought it _was_ a special occasions. Although, she can't deny that there was also an ulterior motive for the change of pace.

"Just wanted to. Shall we go Harry?" Hermione saw Harry frown and knew that he wasn't looking forward to going back to the Dursleys.

Harry nodded and the two of them set off towards the exit. They found Ron standing by the magical barrier, waving at the two of them as they got off the train. Harry and Hermione met him at the barrier, but before they could hold a conversation, the ticket inspector signaled to her, Ron, and Harry that it safe to go through platform nine and ten. Hermione knew of the surprise waiting for Harry on the other side and smiled broadly at the surprise etched on Harry's face once they stepped through the other side.

But, as she stood there as the rest greeted Harry, Hermione felt a pang in her heart as she stared at the four people that were alive once more. Tonks's bubble-gum-pink hair gleamed in the sunlight, her eyes lit up with the exuberance of life. Remus's face was pale, his hair graying, but even she was relieved by the smile on his face when his stare landed on Harry. Fred acted as one with George as the two of them began badgering their siblings with their jokes. Even she had to admit that Moody's sinister look was a welcoming sight. These people were alive, and Hermione knew her knowledge could help prevent their deaths.

Quietly, Hermione slipped away from the group, an action only Moody, Remus, and Tonks noticed. Not too far away from Harry's welcoming committee were her parents who were waiting patiently for their daughter to come to them. As she saw her parents, Hermione immediately rushed towards them with all the speed she could muster. Once she had been close enough, Hermione dropped her trunk and wrapped her arms around both of them.

"I missed you two so much!" Hermione nearly yelled. It took all of her strength to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes.

The Grangers held their daughter, smiling contently at their family reunion. Hermione was sure that the two of them were surprised, it wasn't often that she showed them physical affection; something that was only common when it came to Harry. They disengaged from the embrace and Hermione stepped back grinning.

Her father still looked about the same. He was not much taller than her, about three inches higher; he sported an average fame, with a small gut slowly building as he advanced in age. Her father had the same shade of brown hair that she had, but it was gradually receding, making his forehead look wider. It was also from him that Hermione inherited the same tint of chocolate eyes that sparkled gold in the right light. He had a tough, stern-looking face, but he had a small smile reserved for his wife and daughter.

Her mother, on the other hand, was still what you would consider a beautiful woman. Even as she neared fifty like her husband, her mother had an attractive, slim build stemmed from her daily exercises. However, her most attractive feature had to be her green eyes. It wasn't a shimmering emerald like Harry's, but much darker and piercing. Her hair was let loose in dark brown curls, as opposed to the bun she had in the future. Hermione knew her mother often changed her hairstyle every month or so.

"Hermione! You're wearing the dress I sent you! And oh! What have you done to your hair? I love it!" Her mother excitedly squealed as she began examining her hairstyle. With the help of Ginny, Hermione had borrowed a bottle of Sleek-Easys in order to slightly tame her hair from bushy to a little bit wavy. It didn't do a lot, but Hermione pulled her hair back into a pony-tail, showcasing more of her face. Harry, Neville, and Ron didn't notice, or if they did, they didn't comment. It didn't matter though, Hermione didn't do it out of a whim.

Her father patted her shoulder, "It's good to see you again sweetheart." Hermione nodded smiling, her father wasn't much of a conversationalist, but it was his gestures that showed his emotions often.

"Actually, would it be alright if the two of you meet Harry's relatives? Considering that we'll be accommodating him for the summer, it seems only right that we go introduce ourselves." Hermione asked sweetly, looking hopefully at her mother and father.

Her mother grinned, "Of course. I would like to meet Harry as well, he's not a twelve year old anymore after all."

Hermione led the three of them towards Harry and the rest. Her mother watched the group in amusement as there were various heads of red, black, gray, and pink in the mix. As they neared, Hermione picked up Remus mentioning to Harry about 'a little chat with his aunt and uncle'. Alarmed, Hermione quickened her pace just when it had been decided to go harass the Dursleys, "No! Let my parents and I handle it."

"What?" Moody growled, "What would a girl like you do?"

"Now, now Alastor. Let Hermione talk," Arthur said, "Why is that Hermione?"

Hermione crossed her arms and sighed, "Don't you think that threatening the Dursleys is going too far?"

"Relax Hermione," said Remus with a slight smile, "We're not really going to hurt them. We're just going to scare them to back off Harry."

"That's the point! Even if you do that, they're still going to lash out at Harry. I don't think Harry's uncle is the type to take threats lying down. He may be afraid of magic, but he has too much of an ego to let what you say affect him." Hermione argued firmly.

The three adults were at a loss as to what to say to that, and they were stunned silent when Harry agreed, "Hermione's right. I appreciate the gesture, you don't know how much it means to me, but Uncle Vernon really will come after my hide if you guys did something like that."

The magical adults frowned with Moody growling angrily. It was Remus who turned to Hermione and said, "If you and Harry think it's best, then let's try it." He turned back to Harry, "Sorry Harry, I was the one who came up the idea to do this. I thought it would have helped."

Harry flashed a reassuring smile, "Thanks for caring. It really means a lot."

Meanwhile, Hermione returned to her parents who had been watching the scene with both humor and mild confusion. When Hermione didn't explain and instead gestured to follow, the two simply said nothing else and went after their daughter. Hermione walked towards the Dursleys who stood not too far off from Remus and the rest. As he saw the three approach, Vernon cast a suspicious eye towards the Grangers as Petunia and Dudley huddled together looking fearfully at the Brightest Witch of the Age.

Putting on her sweetest smile she could muster, Hermione curtsied Harry's clearly obese uncle and greeted him warmly, "Good day Mr. Dursley. I'm Harry's friend, Hermione Granger."

Vernon's eyes nearly bulged out of its sockets, but – interestingly enough – his face hardly turned a shade of purple which Harry often described what would happen when his uncle became enraged. The fat man said nothing, but instead stared at her two parents right behind her, his eyes wary and fearful. Hermione giggled politely, "Oh pardon me. It appears I misplaced my manners. Excuse me, Mr. Dursley, these are my parents, the Dr. Charlotte and Nathaniel Granger. They're dentists."

Already, Vernon's beady eyes quietly examined both her and her parents. She was right with her assumption to wear the sundress and styling of her hair; it was already clear that Vernon was calculating how much her family was worth. While Vernon was a bigoted and despicable man, he wasn't without any intelligence. He _did_ become a Director of Grunnings for a reason. While she was sure that Harry's uncle detested her for being a witch, he wouldn't allow the opportunity to slip to introduce himself to her well-off parents. It was a gamble, but if it failed, what harm would it do to have the Order threaten him again?

"Oh, good day miss. It's a pleasure to meet you." Vernon greeted her in a sickeningly welcoming voice that was highly reminiscent of Umbridge. He turned away from her and faced her parents, "I'm Vernon Dursley, Harry's uncle. Here's my card." Vernon pulled out a business card from his wallet and handed it towards her mother and father.

Her parents made their greetings, her father taking Vernon's card and smiling politely, "Oh. Grunnings eh? They supply some of the drills I work with. Very reliable piece of material."

"Really? That's splendid! Of course, I work out in the Surrey branch so I..."

It was from there that Hermione slipped away from her the adults; being near Harry's uncle made her nauseous with ire. She had taken all of her will to not have taken out her wand and blasted a very creative hex that would have the round, detestable bag of flesh unable to walk for the rest of his life. But, Hermione wouldn't stoop down to that level. She turned to her parents conversing with Harry's uncle, this time with Petunia and Dudley coming closer, and they appeared to have an enjoyable time. Her parents would be alright and would see through the Dursleys easily; after all, her mother had grown up with people who only had interest for her beauty or wealth and her father was trained by her mother after all the social events they go to.

As she made her way closer to her magical friends, Hermione cocked a grin at their direction in a triumphant manner, "There, that should take care of them."

"What good will it do to butter them up?" snarled Moody, "We could have had them cowering in fear and making sure they won't touch Harry."

Hermione opened her mouth to explain that her plan wasn't finished just yet, but opted not to. Instead, she only grinned cryptically at the old auror. Nothing else was said as the adults simply accepted what happened. Hermione, of course, had gotten her crushing hug from Molly as she had gotten one yet. After she had let go, Hermione found herself standing close to Ron who was staring at her. While she did not mind, she found it oddly strange. Frowning, she asked, "What is it Ron?"

His ears turned a slight crimson, "Oh, it's – er – nothing. By the way Hermione, do you want to – er – exchange letters while I'm in Romania? You know, to stay in contact?"

"Don't we always write letters to each other Ron?" Hermione replied automatically.

"Oh, right. Yeah. Of course. I'll – uh – write you then."

He walked away with her and was dragged into another conversation with the twins. Hermione simply shrugged off Ron's strange behavior and watched Harry talk to Remus off to the side a bit. From the solemn looks on their expression, it was clear that they were talking about Sirius. Hermione had to smile though, at least with Remus, Harry had someone else to enjoy Sirius's memory with. While she could have done that, Hermione knew she was nowhere close to the shaggy-haired man as Remus was.

"Psst, Hermione. What's with you?" Ginny whispered into her ear.

Hermione eyed her friend inquisitively, "What do you mean Ginny? I'm perfectly fine."

"What's with the response to Ron? I mean, don't you understand what he was trying to do?"

She thought back to Ron's rather awkward questions and the weird gazing he had done. Slowly, she came to realize that he was doing some roundabout away to show his interest. To be honest, he had done the same thing before, and she felt rather flattered back then. However, that door was forever closed and will not open again. Instead, Hermione simply shrugged, "I know what he's doing, but to be frank, I'm not interested."

Ginny gaped, "What? I thought you two had a thing for each other."

"I'm sure he does." Hermione confirmed, "Doesn't mean I feel the same. You could say I had a small crush on him before, but I only see him as a friend." She remained silent as she tried to define that relationship she had with Ron. Hermione recalled the kiss that she had shared with Ron in the Chamber of Secrets. It had felt awkward kissing him like that, but then again, the adrenaline of the time blurred what her real emotions were. Thinking about it now, it was like kissing a brother or a relative, "To be honest, I think I see him more as a brother. We fight a lot over the most trivial things, but we always end up making up sooner or later. So yeah, I think it's more of a familial feeling I have for him."

Ginny didn't say anything more. She heard someone call out her name and saw that her parents were beckoning her to come closer. She saw Vernon doing the same for Harry, so she turned to leave, making her farewells before she did. Harry was taking a longer time, staying behind for the Weasleys to all hug him or spread words of wisdom. Her parents had already separated from the Dursleys and were walking away. From a distance, she saw her parents' smiling masks crumbling and was replaced with a displeased expression. Hermione had to chuckle, it appeared that they found the Dursleys to be insufferable.

Hermione stopped her march and waited for Harry, matching his pace, "Did you talk to Remus about Sirius?"

"Yeah." Harry said smiling, "It was nice. He promised to talk more with me later on."

Instead of letting Harry walk further, Hermione enacted the second stage of her plan with his relatives. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into a hug. Hermione made sure that they were near enough for the Dursleys to overhear as she said, "Good bye Harry. I'll try to visit every day to check up on you. If your relatives do anything bad to you, I'll tell my parents or tell our _magical _friends all about it. So don't worry alright?" From the corner of her eye, she could see the Dursleys shrinking at the subtle threat. Hermione sighed, glad that they picked up the cue.

"Thanks Hermione. I couldn't ask for a better friend. How are you going to visit me though?" Harry asked curiously.

Hermione grinned, "Are you muggle-raised or not? I'm sixteen, I do have a license you know, I'll be driving to you."

"Oh. Don't you live too far?"

She shook her head, "It's just an hour's drive Harry."

"Okay." Harry agreed and hugged Hermione again, "I can't wait for your visit then."

"Me too Harry." She said sincerely. The two of them stood there in one another's embrace before Hermione had a wicked idea in her head. She raised her head and planted a soft kiss on Harry's cheek as she softly whispered, "I'll see you _real_ soon."

Before Harry could even elicit a reply, Hermione disentangled herself and began to walk back to her parents, a wide, Cheshire grin on her face.


	9. Chapter IX

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter IX**

Hermione awoke Saturday morning feeling absolutely exhilarated. It was a few days after her parting with her friends at the King's Cross Station and she had spent most of those days preparing for the weekend. Her assignments were already completed; with the knowledge she accurately remembered sitting tightly in her head, it had been an easy task. On the other hand, convincing her parents that she was mature and skillful enough to drive the car on her own without the need of a chaperone was even more difficult. Fortunately, her mother – the more experienced driver between her parents – green-lit her for takeoff; it had been a close call as she had hardly driven before, but like a bicycle, once you have it down, it was hard to forget.

However, that was not all she had done in preparation for her visit to Harry's. Hermione moved out of her bed, opening the curtains to allow all of the morning sun to flow into her cool colored room. As she hummed a small tune, Hermione fixed her bed and rearranged some misplaced items spread throughout her desk, typically her textbooks or assignments. She moved across the hall and entered the bathroom, turning on the faucet as she washed her face. As she looked at herself in the mirror, Hermione couldn't help but smile broadly.

She had finally tamed her bushy mane!

Hermione inspected her profile closely, noting how her once frizzy, long hair had been replaced by strands of long, wavy hair. It cascaded briefly passed her shoulders instead of down to her waist when she opted to have it shortened. Her face was now featured much more prominently, her cheeks and jaw line being more visible. Her eyes, which were often hidden by her bangs, was able to seen by all. Even Hermione had to admit to herself that she had grown up nicely and was immensely satisfied with her appearance. She worried if it was a sign that she was becoming vain, but Hermione scoffed that notion. She was not a little girl. She changed her hair because it made _her_ happy and not because she wanted to impress others. It was something done for herself and it made her proud that she was comfortable in her own skin with just a simple change.

However, all this was thanks to her mother.

It had been yesterday afternoon, her mother had taken Friday afternoons off from the practice as usual while her father finished up. So it was no surprise when Hermione had come downstairs to take a break from her school work that her mother was in the kitchen cooking lunch. Her mother hummed the same tune that Hermione often did whenever she was in a good mood, but as to what caused it was a mystery to Hermione.

"Hey mum." Hermione greeted casually as she took her seat at the kitchen table. She yawned tiredly, having grown restless after three hours of nonstop work.

Her mother closed the lid of the pot and turned to Hermione, smiling all the while, "Afternoon dear. Lunch will be ready soon."

Hermione nodded and stood up; her mother's words were her cue to set the table. She went to the cabinet and began pulling two plates. Hermione set it down on the table and went to fetch the silverware. Her mother's humming continued, and Hermione's curiosity was at its end, "Mum, what's got you happy?"

"You know Martha from my salon Hermione?" Her mother asked excitedly.

Not ever recalling a Martha, Hermione decided to just go along with it, "What about her?"

"Well, I originally had to wait until next week for an appointment, but Martha called to say that their entire afternoon block had been canceled after the bride called off the wedding. So, I decided to move up my time to today instead. Wonderful isn't it?"

Hermione chuckled, "I suppose Mum."

"Yes – well – after lunch, I'll be taking off. Why don't you – err – never mind, I often forget that you take more after your father." Her mother turned around and resumed cooking.

Hermione stared at her mother's back and noticed the small regret in her words. It was true that she wasn't close to her mother, but Hermione still loved her all the same. Besides, wasn't she given a second chance to fix the mistakes she made? Perhaps it was time to do what was right and work towards to finding a common ground with her mother. Tentatively, with her cheeks flushing, she said, "Mother. Actually, would you mind if we – I mean – I go with you? I would love to style my hair a bit. To be honest, I don't fancy my bushy mane. If that's alright of course."

Her mother turned around and stared at her only daughter. Hermione shyly averted her eyes away, a bit embarrassed. She realized how adamant she had been from being dragged off to getting her hair changed when she was younger; proudly stating she would never do anything to change how she looked. But now, much older and wiser than before, Hermione thought it would be _nice_ to act a little..._girly_.

"Do you mean it Hermione?"

"Of course mum! Maybe we could make it out to be a girl's day out? Where we can spend some time together..." Her voice trailed off, leaving her mother to fill in the blanks of what she desired.

Needless to say, her mother whooped in joy which startled Hermione. While she wasn't reserved with her emotions, she was often in full control of her actions, "I would love that Hermione. Oh! I have to call up Martha..."

The memory remained in mind as she exited the bathroom. Her mother had been simply overjoyed when Hermione expressed interest in joining her. What came after was a whirlwind of activity and before she knew it, Hermione was in London in a prominent salon as stylists fought her hair in a vigorous battle. Of course, they were triumphant and even Hermione was impressed by how well they did it. It was a truly awesome victory as not even magic had managed to keep her hair so _silky_ before.

_Of course,_ Hermione thought wryly as she opened her closet, _Mother had to go overboard with the clothing._

While she loved her mother dearly, Hermione couldn't fathom how her – let alone _all_ women – managed to become extremely fascinated by clothing. As she stared at her new, fashionable wardrobe that her mother had bought for her during their trip yesterday, Hermione couldn't help but think of how envious Lavender, Parvati, and Ginny would be at how stylish her new sets of clothes were. Then again, they _were_ Purebloods and stuck to some of the conservative wear of magical society; they were probably more modest than how they acted truly.

Nevertheless, even Hermione had to accede that her mother truly knew what she suited her. She was aware that Hermione wasn't one for flashy displays of clothes and instead chose an attire that truly befitted her character. Hermione thought back to the gossiping girls – more so the Halfbloods and Muggleborns – of Hogwarts and how important it was to be 'sexy' by revealing flashes of their skin. She found that whole concept both embarrassing and confusing; her philosophy when it came to that was that 'less is more'. The less revealing the clothing, the more it left to the imagination. Wasn't eliciting the intrigue of the opposite sex be more appealing and more likely to succeed in catching a boy? Hermione shrugged, it hardly mattered.

She browsed through her closet, trying to find something that would be both comfortable and would leave a good impression. Her eyes lit up when came upon some of the new clothes that her mother had selected specifically for casual wear. Hermione placed the set of clothes upon her bed and began undressing fully, opting to change her undergarments. After making the necessary changes, she first put on the turquoise colored jeans that really clung to her skin; it came with a white studded belt already wrapped around it serving no purpose than as a fashion accessory. Next, Hermione put on the vividly white shirt that came along with the jeans; the sleeves were much shorter than normal, not to mention that it completely fitted her form nicely.

Hermione examined herself in the mirror, striking several poses to see how the outfit looked. Her curves were already developed, but her form-fitting shirt and jeans combo definitely accentuated it to the extreme. Hermione took her now manageable hair and pondered her choices. Should she have it up in a pony tail or should she allow it to cascade down in silken waves? Well, Hermione certainly did like how she looked with it flowing down freely. Her decision made, Hermione smiled and winked at herself in the mirror and made her way downstairs for breakfast.

By the time she entered the kitchen, her father was setting down the meal on the table. Hermione flung herself to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, "Morning dad."

"Good morning sweetheart." He replied as he returned the hug and settled himself down on his seat.

"Hermione!" Her mother called out to her next to her husband, "You look splendid. Stand up straight, let me take a good look at you."

Hermione grinned and struck a confident pose for her mother. She spun on her heels for a 360 view and waited eagerly for her mother's assessment, "Morning mum. So, what do you think?"

She clasped her hands together, "You look gorgeous honey! I just knew you would look lovely in that. Thank goodness I bought it." She swerved her head towards her spouse, "What do you think dear?"

The Granger patriarch studied Hermione closely and then smiled, "You look just like your mother when she was your age. Absolutely stunning."

That was, of course, the correct answer as both of the Granger girls planted a soft kiss on both his cheeks.

Hermione settled into her own side of the table and began eating the delicious concoction her father made. After swallowing the first few bites, Hermione turned to her father, "So dad, can I really borrow your car to visit Harry?"

Her father stiffened, placing down the newspaper he was reading. As he thought it over, he frowned and said, "Hermione, you're not seventeen yet. I don't think it's safe for you to drive just yet."

The brown haired witch opened her mouth to protest, but her mother beat her to it, "Nathan, Hermione is perfectly capable of driving. I already tested her and she's fine. She has a perfectly good head on her shoulders and wouldn't run into any trouble."

"Even so," Her father sighed, "She doesn't even have a license yet."

Hermione had to smile at the little white lie she had told Harry; she didn't have a license, but if she had told him that she was going to come visit with the potential of getting into trouble, Harry would have been worried. While Harry had no trouble breaking the rules himself, the same can not be said when his friends were going to and have the potential to be hurt.

"Nathan." Her mother stared at her father sternly, "I remember when we were both sixteen and how you would come around in your father's car to pick me up on our dates. We can trust Hermione."

"Please dad? I'm not a little girl anymore." Hermione urged, using the typical teenage argument against one's parents.

Her father pinched the bridge of his nose, but he soon crumpled to the pressure of his favorite girls, "Alright. Alright. When are you planning to take off Hermione?"

"After I finish breakfast." Came the answer.

"Okay. I'll let you go. However!" He said sternly, "Be home by 9. Fill up the tank after you're done. And also, if I find there's so much as a scratch on it, no more driving privileges. Are we clear young lady?"

Hermione had to fight against the urge to roll her eyes, "Vivid dad."

"Good. The keys are in the bowl by the door."

She nodded and finished up breakfast. Hermione kissed her parents and raced upstairs, putting on the boots that had several straps on it. Her other shoes had grown too small for her and she absolutely adored how comfy the boots were in comparison. Hermione moved down the stairs at a quick and safe pace, but as she neared the ground floor, she overheard her parents in the living room as they turned on the telly.

"All I'm saying Charlotte is that I don't really trust this Harry fellow just yet." Her father stated quite clearly to her mother. Hermione frowned, how could he say that about Harry?

"Have you not read her letters Nathan? Or what about when we met him briefly that time in Diagon Alley? From the likes of it, Harry seems to be a very polite and kind boy. He _is_ Hermione's friend."

"He's not a twelve year old anymore, he's a teen. I know what goes on in their heads. It's bad enough that we agreed to let him stay here for the summer, but now she's driving all the way over there to see him? What's there to say that nothing will happen between them?"

"From what Hermione told me, they're just friends. Really good friends. Nathan, we have to trust Hermione with her decisions. She's growing into a fine young woman, and we shouldn't coddle her."

"I know that Charlotte." Her father sighed, "I suppose you're right." He chuckled, "She really does look like you when you were younger. I'm afraid that I can't be there at Hogwarts beating those bloody boys away from her."

"Language Nathan." Despite the reprimand, her mother laughed as well.

Hermione smiled, she didn't take her father's worries over Harry to heart. It was true, Harry had never been formally introduced to her parents, so it was only natural that her father was concerned. So she was thankful that they cared for her in their own way. Her mother loved to string her along towards activities where they could spend time together. Her father was different. While he wasn't stoic, he can be described more as quiet and only talk when it was necessary. He displayed his affections in a more subtle manner; a pat on the head, a small smile, or eyes worried with concern were some of the ways that he showed he loved her.

"Mum, dad, I'm going now." Hermione called out, pretending she hadn't overheard their conversation, "I'll try to be back in the late afternoon." She picked up the car keys in the glass bowl on the small table by the door.

"Be safe Hermione." Her mother called out.

Hermione opened the front door and replied, "I will. Take care!"

She passed through the entrance and closed the door behind her. Hermione took to the cobblestone path that led her to the curb where her parents' cars were parked out. Hermione turned to her father's black Mercedes-Benz and unlocked the automobile. She entered the driver's seat, placing the key in the ignition as it soon roared to life. Her heartbeat increased as she felt a sudden exhilaration behind the wheel of the car. Her thoughts turned to Harry and how surprise he would be when she arrived in Surrey.

Hermione shifted the car into drive and took off.

Approximately an hour later, Hermione pulled into Privet Drive. The sight laid before her was dreadfully boring. Each house had a box-like in design, all having the same exact color. If she hadn't known that Harry lived in Number Four Privet Drive, then there was no telling which house he could have been in. Each house was identical to the next, and Hermione felt oddly frightened by such conformity. She recalled reading a novel where citizens were brainwashed to be mindless drones living in rows upon rows of eerily similar homes. From what Harry had described about his neighbors and relatives, it wasn't far from the truth.

Hermione plowed ahead and slowly crept down the road, carefully looking at the numbers of each house that passed by to find Number Four. As she passed Number Three Privet Drive, Hermione felt an odd sensation pass through her. She felt her magic bubble underneath the surface of her skin. Had she passed through a magical ward of some sort? Immediately, Hermione pulled out her wand and spoke an incantation that revealed the presence of a ward.

Suddenly, various runic symbols flowed out of the tip of her wand and displayed itself in front of her. Hermione swiftly translated what each mark meant and frowned. The blood wards _were_ indeed active, but it wasn't very powerful. If her translations were correct, the level of protection it provided was at its minimum. Any people with ill-intentions towards the recipient tied to the war arriving in the area would quickly forget what they came for and leave, soon forgetting the location altogether; they weren't able to apparate or floo into the area either. However, the area of effect only governed around the house where the recipient lived and a couple of meters around it. It helped explain why Harry was attacked by dementors, he wasn't close enough to be protected by the blood wards. If the blood wards were working in full capacity, it would have been able to repel any dementors which it did not.

Along with the blood wards, there was an additional ward that covered the entire neighborhood. Hermione found that it wasn't a ward that she was familiar with, but according to her calculations, it seemed that its primary purpose was that it blocked some sort of monitor on the area. Hermione pondered the possibilities as to what it was blocking it when it hit her. _This ward ensures that anyone could use magic without the consequence of the Ministry believing it was Harry! _Hermione concluded excitedly. It would make sense. The Order of the Phoenix had to keep a close eye on Harry while he was in Privet Drive in case of an attack, they couldn't do their jobs well if each time they performed magic, Harry gets in trouble with the magical government.

_The only one who has the knowledge and power to do this is Dumbledore._ Again, it made sense. The Headmaster probably had to take measures into ensuring that the Ministry doesn't interfere with Harry's safety. By putting up the ward, the Order of the Phoenix were free to defend Harry without any negative repercussions. It certainly explained things. However, she knew Harry probably didn't know. Dumbledore had a habit of hiding things from Harry it seemed. Perhaps it was to encourage Harry to obey the laws to play it safe, but Hermione knew he would have had an easier time with his relatives if he had known.

Hermione ended the spell and continued towards Number Four Privet Drive. As she neared the house, the front door opened to reveal Harry in his cousin's hand-me-downs exiting the house with a gardening kit in tow while wearing a pair of gloves. A pleasant smile was on his face as he stood there for a moment, drawing in the morning air. Hermione had to laugh at Harry's seemingly jovial mood and wondered if her best friend had a penchant for gardening. If that was true, then she wondered why Harry never told her. But then again, everyone has at least one secret hobby or two that no one knows about.

She edged her father's car up to the curb in front of Number Four Privet Drive. Hermione placed the car in park and rolled down the windows. A thought came to mind as she removed the pair of sunglasses on the dashboard and placed them on her nose. Harry had his back turned to her and was already on his knees tending to his aunt's garden. Grinning mischievously, Hermione honked the horn of the Mercedes-Benz, causing Harry to nearly jump in surprise. He turned around out of instinct to find a gorgeous brunette wearing shades in a very expensive-looking car smirking at him in a rather sexy way.

Now that Hermione caught her best friend's attention, she called out, "Hey there handsome. Care to join me for a _ride_?"

To her amusement, Harry burned red. His eyes were unfocused as he awkwardly fixed his glasses, stammering all the while. Fortunately, Harry regained enough bearing to come up with a respond, "I-I'm s-sorry miss, but I have to t-tend to my aunt's garden."

"Oh really?" Hermione acted disappointingly, "That's a real shame. We could have had so much _fun_ together."

As Harry's jaw dropped and his cheeks becoming redder than Ron's ever could when he was embarrassed, Hermione roared in riotous laughter. She rested her forehead against the steering wheel as fits of laughter overwhelmed her. Hermione banged against the dashboard as she held on to her sides. When she finally was able to compose herself, Hermione took off the sunglasses and turned back to Harry, "Relax Harry! It's just me."

"H-Hermione!" Harry gasped out, "BLOODY HELL!"

Hermione ignored the crude language and gave him a dazzling grin, "Yep. I'm hurt Harry, how couldn't you recognize your best friend?"

Harry refused to make eye contact as he moved closer to the car, "I knew it was you. I just wanted to play along."

She rolled her eyes at the obvious lie but didn't reply. Hermione rolled the windows back up and turned off the engine, removing the key from the ignition. She got out of the car and flung herself at Harry, wrapping her arms tightly around him. As she settled into his chest, Hermione muttered, "I told you I would come to visit."

"Yeah, I'm glad." Harry whispered back as he returned the embrace with just as much love and care as she did. They removed themselves from each other, quietly taking note of each other's appearance. Harry looked no different than he did when she left him a few days ago, but it was clear that Harry was absolutely stunned by the extreme change of her guise. He was staring at her awkwardly, turning scarlet as he did so.

Hermione worried when Harry didn't say anything else. She looked down at herself and frowned, "I look weird don't I?"

"NO!" Harry immediately replied harshly. Hermione was startled by the sudden outburst and watched Harry carefully. He shifted from side to side nervously as he expanded his thoughts, "I mean – er – your hair is – um – you just look beautiful! Stunning even! You look brilliant!"

His eyes shifted slightly to the right as he hobbled on one foot to another. They shyly glanced at one another after his barrage of compliments, sparking a furious blush to appear on Hermione's cheeks. Her stomach fluttered at the words of praise that Harry gave and knew he was speaking honestly.

It had been one of her greatest worries really. When she made the decision to improve upon her appearance, Hermione feared for the reaction of her friends, Harry's especially. Did she truly look great as her mother said? Or was she making a fool of herself for even attempting it. But now, with Harry's words repeating over and over again in her mind, Hermione knew she had made the right decision. She had always found herself measuring Harry's thoughts above others; he was her best friend after all. However, there was another set of emotions that dwelt within her, lingering along the surface of her thoughts. Hermione was unsure what to make of it. So she didn't. Harry's positive opinion over her choices was enough to satisfy her.

As a reward, Hermione closed her eyes and unknowingly pecked Harry lightly on the lips. Not knowing what she had done, Hermione stood back where she was and smiled happily at her raven-haired best friend, "Thanks Harry. You don't know how much that means to me." Her smile turned into a smirk, "Now come on, we have to make it known to your relatives that I am here!" Hermione took his hand and hurriedly led him towards the door.

However, as she surged ahead, Hermione didn't see Harry clamping his hands to his lips, his face warm and tinged pink.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: When I write, I allow the characters to breathe life into the story and allow them to control the flow. That's why I only have a vague outline instead of specifically listing details. However, even I have to admit that the ending ran from me as I wrote it. Honestly, Hermione, your excitable mannerisms when it concerns Harry certainly quickened the pace of your burgeoning relationship with him!

Also, what Hermione did happened to me once before. A friend of mine, who was raised to physically show his affection, often plants platonic kisses or hugs. One embarrassing moment occurred when he casually pecked me on the lips after I gave him his birthday present. Much to my surprise, he didn't realize what he had done and continued on as usual. When I told him, we both shared a hearty laugh. However, I doubt with Harry, having been raised as he did, will not take this as smoothly as most would hm?


	10. Chapter X

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: I've gotten a few reviews concerning Hermione's state of dress. Um, honestly, I was just describing what she was wearing in one of the _Harry Potter_ movie promos where she wore the exact same outfit. Anything else was really based upon your own interpretation of it. Perhaps it's my fault for not writing more clearly, but regardless, if you disliked what she wore, it was because you, as the reader, imagined it for yourself. So shame on you. This chapter is completely unbeta'd, but I wanted to publish this as soon as possible. Expect for a cleaner, more well-written version in a couple of hours. Now, please enjoy **Chapter X**. I can't believe we made it this far!

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter X**

"I'm not too sure about this Hermione." quipped Harry, his voice hesitant and nervous.

A hearty chuckle escaped Hermione's lips, evidently amused by Harry's behavior, "Oh come now Harry, I'm right here with you. There's _nothing_ to be afraid of."

"Well, this is my first time..."

"If it makes you feel any better, I never did this before as well."

"But..."

"Shh," Hermione gently hushed, "Just enjoy it Harry."

"..."

"..."

"Wow, this is a lot – erm – hotter than I expected."

"Ow!" Hermione cried out suddenly.

Harry worriedly looked over to her, "Are you okay Hermione?"

"I'm fine. Went a little too fast there is all."

"I like this Hermione. I like this _a lot._"

Harry's glowing smile was infectious as it quickly spread to Hermione's thin lips, "I do too. We'll have plenty of other chances to do this when you come stay with me Harry."

"But what about your parents?"

"What they don't know won't hurt them."

The two of them grinned excitedly, Hermione was looking forward to it. She brought the mug of hot coffee to her lips and sipped a small portion of the delicious, caffeinated nectar. Hermione drank the liquid slowly, having nearly burned her tongue when she consumed it too fast earlier. Harry, on the other hand, was gulping down the coffee as if it was water and wondered how he was able to withstand the heated liquid flood into his throat. The young witch shook her head exasperatedly, simply marking it as one of Harry's odd quirks.

Hermione and Harry sat in the kitchen of Number Four Privet Drive, enjoying a fresh brew of morning coffee after Harry found an unopened can in one of the Dursley's cupboards. The two of them, having never tried it before, had decided to do just that. Harry never had coffee on account of his upbringing with the Dursleys while Hermione was explicitly told by her parents to never drink it as they told her it was bad for the teeth. However, curiosity had finally gotten the two of them to try out the mysterious drink that they had often seen others consume.

"Are you sure you won't get in trouble Harry?" Hermione asked worriedly, hoping their actions wasn't one that would lead to trouble from Harry's horrid relatives.

Harry shook his head as he reassured her, "They wouldn't notice at all. My uncle and aunt would rather have tea. They only have coffee if Uncle Vernon brings a guest over that does drink it. But that's only once in a blue moon."

She accepted that explanation, ceasing her doubts over the insignificant matter. When Hermione finished her mug, Harry courteously took the empty cup from her and proceeded with the cleaning up. Even as she pleaded to help out, Harry wouldn't budge from the manner and continued on with his task. Hermione frowned at his polite display but knew she wouldn't be able to deter him. It wasn't often that Harry took on the role as host so it probably made him happy to become one when he had his _own_ guest over.

While Harry busied himself on the sink, Hermione took the chance to wander about Number Four Privet Drive. According to Harry, Petunia Dursley was taking a trip into town with several of the other housewives in the community, Vernon Dursley took off for the local golf course to play a few holes with a client, and Dudley Dursley was ravaging about the neighborhood with his so-called 'friends'. Whatever the case may be, they wouldn't be home for several hours. Hermione supposed that it was a good thing; she didn't feel particularly in the mood to deal with those insufferable ingrates.

When Hermione stepped into the living room of the Dursley abode, she was immediately reminded of a house making magazine picture. While Hermione had to admit that the décor was tastefully well-done, she didn't feel welcomed in the realm she had entered. It was if she was being told that she was only meant to look into the room not actually be in it. Nevertheless, she made her way to the sofa and plopped herself down, picking up the remote control for the telly to turn it on. As she channel surfaced numbly, Hermione took notice of the photographs that were atop of the fireplace mantle and found the Dursleys smiling warmly into the camera, but not one of the photos contained Harry; the fury of her dissent rose, but she immediately quelled it. Sighing, Hermione focused her mind on the programs that were on television instead of her thoughts on Harry's relatives.

Hermione soon grew disinterested with what she was watching. Instead, she focused on the soft, soothing noises of running water that echoed from the kitchen and filtered out the incessant chatter stemming from the television set. As her mind went at ease, Hermione really wondered what Harry and herself could possibly do. They could work on Harry's school assignments, but she really didn't feel in the mood to do such a thing. This was the first time that they were together in a non-magical setting and for once, she was at a loss on what to do. She briefly speculated what a normal teenage boy and girl would do in her situation but..._those_ ideas weren't very appropriate.

"It never struck me that you were one to watch television Hermione." Rang Harry's chuckling voice as he entered through the hall.

Broken from her meditative state, Hermione lowered the volume and turned to Harry, grinning, "I _am_ a muggleborn Harry."

"True, but I figured you more to have lived your life free from the electronic media and spend your day in your room reading book after book."

"Ha ha. Very funny Harry." Hermione remarked sarcastically, rolling her eyes, "Well, you're not too far off anyway. I only watch the news and all."

"My aunt mostly watches the soaps." He commented when he took a seat on the armchair on the far side of the room.

Hermione looked at her friend oddly, trying to determine why he had made his placement in the room. When she observed him, his eyes remained focused on the telly, refusing to make eye contact with her. Needless to say, Hermione was confused by Harry's strange actions. Curious, she asked, "Harry, are you alright?"

Still avoiding meeting her gaze, he replied curtly, "Yeah. I'm fine."

She frowned, clearly seeing through his lie, "How many times do I have to tell you? I can..."

"...see right through me. Yes, yes. I know Hermione. Really, I'm _fine_." Harry interrupted, his voice attempting to broker that it was the end of the conversation.

Unfortunately for Harry, Hermione wasn't one to back down. While she would now normally have waited for Harry to come speak to her about whatever issues he was having, there was a clear distinction between now and before. Analyzing the data presented, Harry's problems seemed to have a connection to her hence his inability to look at her. Normally, Harry would have not done such a thing. Whatever issue Harry had, Hermione was resolute that it could be solved if they simply talked about it now, "I'm not buying it Harry. It's about me right? I won't be offended, so let's just talk this through. You're acting real _weird_."

"I'm not the one being weird!"

Hermione eyed him quizzically, "What have I done to warrant being labeled as _weird_?"

Suddenly, Harry's face flushed a slight red. His whole body went rigid as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. If they were not in the middle of what she believed was a serious conversation, Hermione may have made the connection that Harry looked like a little boy having been caught with his hand inside the cookie jar. Harry finally turned to her, looking straight at her with those green eyes that Hermione often admired and declared, "You kissed me."

"I kissed you on the cheek. I did it before at the train station and the year before that as well. What's so odd about that?" Hermione had to laugh internally. It was a little cute that Harry was so innocent in those matters. It was slightly strange though with Harry having kissed Cho and she having kissed him on the cheeks plenty of times before. What was the difference now?

"You didn't kiss me on the cheek! You kissed me on the _lips_!" Harry pointed to his lips, "Earlier, when I complimented you. I mean, what was _that_? Friends...don't normally kiss friends there right?"

Hermione was, to say the least, flabbergasted. As she reviewed the event in question, Hermione recalled having closed her eyes when she had leaned in. There was certainly a possibility that what Harry said was true. In fact, there was no reason to even doubt Harry. For all that he was, Harry wouldn't lie about something like this, especially to _her_. So if Hermione truly had kissed Harry, then Harry, with his little experience of the opposite sex, was truly confused as evident with how he was currently acting. Being the more mature companion, Hermione decided the course of how she was going to go about this 'crisis', "In some cultures, a sign of close friendships is a peck on the lips as thanks or greetings, even between the same sexes."

"Oh." Harry stated plainly, "So...that was just some weird French custom you were doing or something?"

Hermione shook her head and laughed, "No. I guess I accidentally kissed you on the lips instead of the cheek."

"So it wasn't on purpose?"

"Why? Do you want it to be?" Hermione asked teasingly, a little surprised with herself with how bold she had become, "It was just a kiss Harry."

Harry didn't reply, opting to remain quiet. As the terse silence continued, Hermione bit down on her bottom lip, believing she had said the wrong thing. It was not like she had intentionally kissed the boy on the lips, why was such a simple thing making Harry behave in his current manner? She opened her mouth to rid away the tense quietude, but Harry beat her to punch by softly stating, "It was nice Hermione."

"What was nice?" She asked dumbly, her eyes widening at the implications of Harry's statement.

"That kiss," Harry elaborated, "It was nice. It wasn't like that when I was with Cho. It felt...right, I suppose. Better even."

Hermione was absolutely stunned. Her heart raced at the compliment as a magnitude of fierce emotions erupted within her, many of which were foreign and unknown. As she stared at Harry, who was now looking at her to see what her reaction to what he said, Hermione felt conflicted. A part of her was mortified that her best friend liked a kiss with her. However, another fraction of her personality was actually accepting of this new occurrence. In fact, if Hermione was honest with herself, with the intimacy that she shared with Harry, why would she be surprised that a kiss between each other felt wonderful?

She silently began dissecting her recent feelings towards Harry. There was something about him that changed and she couldn't accurately label what it was. However, one thing she did know was that she felt some form of attraction towards Harry now more than ever. Hermione knew it was normal to find one of her male friends to be attractive, after all, she had thought Ron could have been a suitable partner until just recently, but honestly, she had never expected to become attracted to Harry. But once again, she didn't feel at all surprised that she did. Currently, her feelings towards Harry were filled with confusion and doubt, and she was afraid where it may lead. But despite all of this rationale of her conflicting emotions, Hermione simply couldn't resist the sweet temptation that was currently dangling in front of her, "Well, I find it all unfair. I wasn't even aware that I did kiss you..." Then uncertainly she asked, "Would you...would you like to kiss me again Harry?"

Hermione didn't know how or when it happened, but already Harry was already on the sofa. His nervousness was prominent as he stammered jumbled words that hardly made any sense but he heard them nevertheless, "Well, I wondered – sometimes – how it would be like to kiss...you. It's not like I have any experience with that sort of thing. Especially with Cho not being a very welcoming memo-"

Smiling, she placed a finger to Harry's mouth, stopping his rant. Smirking coyly with her eyes filled with heated curiosity as she was on the verge of fulfilling an old fantasy she didn't know she had, Hermione plainly said, "So kiss me Harry."

Before she knew it, she was on top of Harry with her lips upon his. Immediately, her mind went blank as she lost herself in the euphoria of their kiss. Hermione felt Harry's hands on her hips, prompting her to wrap her arms around his neck. A moan escaped her and in the midst of it all, Harry took the opportunity to enter her mouth. This new sensation sent chills of pleasure throughout her entire body, feeling warmer as time progressed. Not wanting to be upstaged, Hermione charged head-on, ferociously battling for dominance. Unknowingly, one of Hermione's hand ran through the Harry's hair, gripping it roughly between her fingers.

Neither Hermione nor Harry knew how long they had been going during their rather passionate embrace. Lost in their own little world, they were unaware of the front door of Number Four Privet Drive opening. Heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway, stopping for a slight moment before continued forward. It wasn't until the footsteps stopped at the threshold of the living room and hall was Hermione and Harry slightly aware of the new presence. Then suddenly, Dudley's booming voice erupted, "B-BLOODY HELL!"

The pair jolted in surprise, pulling back from what they were doing and turning their heads towards where the shout originated from. Dudley stood there, looking much more muscular than fat, with his hands within his jacket and eyes unnaturally open staring her and Harry. Hermione looked down her state of dress, noticing her white shirt having ridden up to below her breasts, bearing her open midriff. She quickly pulled down her shirt, looking embarrassed. Harry's clothes, already being baggy, didn't look like it was in state of chaos and for that, Hermione was envious.

"D-Dudley! What are you doing home?" Harry awkwardly asked, "You told Aunt Petunia you and Piers were heading to the arcade..."

And for a brief seconds, Hermione witnessed a rare moment; Harry and his cousin were speaking civilly, their past conflict having been forgotten, "We were, but I left my wallet..."

Harry nodded, "Ah...well...this is Hermione Granger. My best friend, you met her a few days ago."

"Yeah...I remember." Dudley muttered, glancing at Hermione, his expression slightly surprised by her new look, "Good morning."

"Umm...good morning." Hermione politely replied back.

"Right, well, you can't keep your friends waiting."

Dudley nodded, "Right. I'll be...I'll be off now." He quickly left at a speed that didn't seem possible for someone of his weight and build.

It wasn't until they heard a door slamming shut did Harry and Hermione relax. They shyly glanced at one another as the impact of what they had done came crashing down on them. Hermione admonished herself, disbelieving that she fell prey to the bane of teenage existence: raging hormones. As she gazed at Harry's thoughtful expression, Hermione wondered if they did something irreversible. It would kill her that after all her work, they would drift apart nonetheless. That was her worst fear and Hermione tormented herself that she acted upon her confused attraction to Harry. But she couldn't help it, the temptation had been too much.

"Harry..." She started cautiously, "Are you alright?"

"To be honest, I'm bloody confused." Harry exasperatedly confessed.

Hermione chuckled, ignoring his curse, "I know what you mean...I'm the same."

"It's just...I never expected _this_ to happen. I mean, you're my _best friend_. Best friends don't do what we did."

"True. It certainly isn't normal." Hermione admitted, "But when are we ever normal?"

Harry frowned as memories of the past sprung to mind. He laid back on the couch, staring idly in front of him, "It's just...it's just that I'm not really sure what's going on anymore. Lately..." He gulped, "Lately, I'm starting to see you as more than my best friend."

Those simple words ignited something within Hermione. As she gazed contemplatively at her best friend, Hermione knew she was starting to see him more as a man rather than the young boy who relied on her. But they were both confused over these new emotions and didn't know where to take them. Even Hermione, having two years more years of experiencing and had underwent her own romantic entanglements – if you counted that horrid mess of a courtship with Ron as 'romantic – was at a loss on how to proceed through this.

"So what exactly are we Hermione? Does this make us boyfriend-girlfriend? Or was this all just a big mistake?"

And like that, Hermione was struck with realization. She immersed herself on how she felt in the heat of the moment and realized that it didn't feel odd, in fact, Hermione felt absolutely at ease when the two of them were snogging. In fact, Hermione felt more excited than she had ever been than when she had kissed Ron. It wasn't a _mistake_. But Hermione wasn't sure if she was willing to commit to a relationship with Harry. There was a war going and there were plenty of secrets that she had that she was still unwilling to share just yet. But even with her worries that clouded her mind, Hermione maintained a tranquil smile. She scooted close to Harry and wrapped her arms around him, leaning up to kiss him on the cheeks, "Harry, why do we need a label? Even you have to admit we have something that really can't be defined."

"I know that Hermione. I don't know what I would do if I lost you like I almost did in the Ministry. Everything is changing and I accept that. But, I don't want to change what we have. Hermione, it would kill me if our friendship was ruined."

Forcing back the mistakes of her past behind her, Hermione understood where Harry was coming from. She was afraid as well, "It would kill me too Harry. Look, we shouldn't forget what happened, it would only make things worse. So let's just accept things as it is."

"So are we a couple now or...?"

"No," Hermione stated simply, "Even I'm not sure if I want to be in a relationship with you Harry for the exact same reasons as you have. So how about this, we'll be more than best friends, but less than lovers?"

"More than best friends, less than lovers?" Harry asked puzzled, "What does that mean?"

Hermione shrugged, "I don't know about you, but I like those kisses. You're..." She turned slightly red, "...pretty good at those."

"Thanks." Instead of a cocky grin, Harry smiled rather bashfully, "So are you."

"Let's say, if we ever feel like it, and it's appropriate, we can – umm – snog? Take it casually, I guess?"

"But we're not a boyfriend or girlfriend?"

"Nope. We're best friends first."

"I guess, if it's alright with you, we can do that..." Harry frowned, "But...what if you find a bloke you like or something?"

Hermione simply loved how caring Harry could be, "Then we can stop. Same goes for you if you find a girl you want to be with."

"Doubtful."

"It's just a what-if scenario Harry."

Slowly, Harry nodded. Hermione watched him weigh in the pros and cons in his head; trying to think of any reason to deny or accept the sudden transition of their relationship. Hermione couldn't blame him, she was more unsure of what to make of her suggestion. But, whatever the outcome may be, Hermione was willing to accept it. All they wanted for each other was for the other to be happy. Harry turned back to Hermione and smiled broadly, "More than best friends, less than lovers?"

"More than best friends, less than lovers."

And the two leaned in to kiss again.

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: I was having a difficult time with this chapter at first because I naively believed that I should follow a certain structure. However, I came to realize that I am the _author_ of the story. I am allowed to write it however I pleased! Thus, with that in mind, I was able to finally complete **Chapter X**. Funny enough, this chapter was also another one of those chapters where the characters did things on their own. I wasn't planning on having this development occur so quickly as I had planned for it to happen in a few more chapters, but when I wrote this, I felt compelled to make it happened. It just felt _right_ that I should do it now rather than later. Hopefully, I satisfied my readers.

Also, I realized the development of Harry and Hermione's relationship seems abnormal from the norm. I can understand that, but honestly, I'm trying to keep things in perspective here. These are two people who have been best friends for a long time who starting to show more outward attraction to one another. A multitude of factors were put in place that ensured that this occurred. Speaking from experience, I've seen this relationship between Harry and Hermione to be completely viable. Anyway, enough of my ramblings. Please let me know what you thought of the chapter. I pray that I don't lose any readers ha ha.


	11. Chapter XI

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: Now, let there be action! Also Happy (Belated) Birthday Hermione! You're my favorite character!

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter XI**

Hermione climbed into her father's car and rolled down the windows of the driver's seat. Harry bent down to Hermione's level, giving off an impressive whistle when he looked into the interior of the automobile. Grinning, Harry eyed Hermione inquisitively with a flare of mischief and asked, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you supposed to be seventeen in order to drive?"

"My parents allowed me. Besides, I placed a charm on it so that the bobbies won't notice." She confessed easily; after all, Hermione felt herself driving to Surrey was something that was necessary, but also, after living the life of a fugitive for nearly a year, Hermione had to admit that she starting to sport an astonishing lawbreaking side to her.

Fortunately, Harry didn't tease her further and simply accepted the explanation, "Alright then. You drive safe okay?" He mentioned worriedly which prompted her to peck him on the cheek.

There was obviously tension between the two of them. After all, their relationship wasn't what it had been before she arrived earlier in the morning. While they were not a couple, their feelings for one another still blossoming, they were more than just best friends. The sudden change was a surprise, and they promised one another to take it slow. A few kisses here or there would help establish how they truly felt; it would help determine whether what they had now was nothing more than a passing fancy or it was a start of something serious. For once, Hermione didn't want to think about it and would rather go with the flow on what's going on between her and Harry. She only hoped that their interactions with one another would return to its original fluidity once they adjusted themselves correctly.

"Like we discussed Harry, try getting your assignments finished before you come stay over alright?" Hermione reminded him, revisiting their talk of plans earlier. After their foray in exploring their new feelings, the two of them had relocated to Harry's room where she found, to her surprise, that a small portion of his summer homework was already completed and needed to be proofread. She felt quite proud that Harry had been proactive considering what Harry was going through since the Department of Mysteries.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry muttered lazily, "Just promise me you'll look it over when I arrive."

"Alright. Also, I know Remus has been talking to you about Sirius, but please don't dwell what happened. I know you Harry, you're still hurt." It was another topic that Hermione had brought up while she was in Harry's room. Apparently, Remus visited Harry on nights when he was on duty to watch over the area. Unsurprisingly, Remus was still worried over Harry's treatment from his relatives – despite her plan having been a success – and had told him about the ward that enabled Harry to use magic undetected. It was also during their conversations when the two reminisced about Sirius. Somehow, Harry was taking Sirius's death in stride, but even Hermione knew that he would have his moments of weakness.

Harry sighed, but smiled at Hermione's concern, "I'll try not to. Thanks to you and Remus, I'm... I'm moving on. I honestly thought that I was alone in my hurt."

"Oh, Harry. You should know that at the very least, you have me."

"I know that now."

The two shared a loving look together, a warm glance that told volumes of how they felt for each other. Whether or not their relationship would lead to romance and remain platonic was yet a mystery, but as Hermione recalled the words of Lily in the clear white station. She had to take a plunge and not skirt away. After all, she was a Gryffindor wasn't she? As she remained in eye contact with her best friend, she saw something in his eyes that showed the unwavering devotion that he had for her. _Hopefully,_ Hermione pondered, _Harry sees the same thing in mine._

"I'm off." Hermione turned the ignition.

"Yeah, I'll see you."

"Harry?"

"What?"

Hermione stretched forward and planted a soft kiss on the lips. As she sat back down, she smirked at him teasingly, batting her eyelashes in amusement when Harry stared at her in surprise, "Later Harry." She said laughing, placing the car on drive and then speeding off. She felt elated at the prospects of the future and agreed that spending the morning and early afternoon with Harry was just the thing she needed. After all, Hermione needed to see what she was fighting for before she went off to do the next thing she planned next.

* * *

><p>Hermione stepped into the dark path that led to Knockturn Alley. Even before she had entered its morbid realm, she was able to see how vastly different the street was from Diagon Alley. The looming threat of Voldemort's reappearance had drastically cut down the number of consumers in the popular shopping area, but the colorful signs and vibrant stores still made it alive and welcoming. It was a stark contrast from Knockturn Alley. With each step Hermione took inside its insidious road, an uncomfortable chill ran down her spine. But she was not deterred; the young witch had faced death and overwhelming agony numerous times, and in the process she had gained a sharp resistance to the Dark Arts.<p>

A collective emptiness seemed to engulfed the shops and suffocate the street. Despite it still being the best time to open its doors and sell their wares, a vast majority of the stores of Knockturn Alley was closed. Hermione wondered if the shopping area's name was actually meaningful. Perhaps most of the shops operated only in the dead of night? If that were the case, Hermione marveled at their simplistic ingenuity. Most aurors, while intended for the group to be on alert 24/7, were done for the day once the sun went down. Thus, the unsavory clientele of the businessmen of Knockturn Alley can easily buy what they wanted or needed without the meddlesome eye of the law hovering over them.

Finally, Hermione arrived at her destination. She stood outside the shop that had been the cause of several of problems in her upcoming Sixth Year. How could she forget that Malfoy had orchestrated the Death Eaters to enter Hogwarts castle with a vanishing cabinet located within Borgin and Burkes? Not to mention the cursed opal necklace that harmed Katie Bell, or the magical dagger of Bellatrix Lestrange that marked her skin with the filthy word, 'Mudblood'. Just staring into the store that had caused so much pain and misery was enough to infuriate her as a burning hatred gripped her heart and tightened as she fed it more with horrible memories of the previous continuity.

She stepped forward, entering the decrepit building that was a store. The facade of a riveting teenage Hermione was long gone. It had been exhausting for her to engage in normal activities over the past few days- after all, keeping up the mask of a girl who had not gone through a vicious war was a difficult thing. Nevertheless, Hermione had managed to continue forward, leaving none the wiser of the tumultuous memories that plagued her scarred mind.

Borgin and Burkes was just like how she remembered the first time she had entered the shop. How foolishly naïve she was back then for having made up that horrid lie about herself and Malfoy; it had been so transparent that she wondered if she had been in the right state of mind when she concocted the incredulous tale. She put away that event back into the recesses of her mind; it would do little to encourage her for the task at hand. Besides, Hermione needn't worry about her skills in deception. Hadn't she miraculously passed through Goblin security – the so-called 'greatest' defense system in the entire magical world – disguised as none other than Voldemort's top lieutenant, Bellatrix Lestrange?

The interior of the store was sparsely furnished, the various dark items that were for sale neatly arranged within glass cabinets. Hermione was sure that there were more dark objects within storage rather than being displayed. No doubt the ones she was able to peruse through were benign in comparison in terms of magical properties, but she was not here for tiny trinkets of the dark. The main object of her interest was not on the shelves, but propped up against the wall next to the counter- the large black cabinet that had made the first invasion of Hogwarts possible.

"A customer!" Came an oily, grime encrusted voice as Hermione moved closer into the shop. Mr. Borgin rubbed his hands, a greedy smile attached to his dirty face. His teeth were a dirty, dark yellow with what looked like black tar being at the root of the gums; if her mother or father had seen this man, they would no doubt have a heart attack at how atrocious his dental hygiene was. He licked his lips, a common action that looked absolutely disgusting when this man did it, "What can I do for you? I have all types of wares to be sold."

Hermione eyed him warily. Mr. Borgin was the exact description of a snake oil salesman. She ignored the proprietor of the shop momentarily, averting her gaze away from him and onto the items he was selling. Again, Hermione was fixated on the uncommon objects that were lined up on to be sold. As she browsed through them once again, she noticed that the opal necklace that had cursed Katie Bell was not among the display. On top of this, the dagger used against her by Bellatrix Lestrange was also not found. It only reinforced her hypothesis that the more insidious supplies were kept hidden.

She lifted her hand and pointed to the Hand of Glory, remembering it being one of the things that Draco Malfoy had purchased. Hermione could not forget the grotesque severed hand and the myths behind the magical instrument. One tale of the powers that resided in its form had been in _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_; it spoke of its ability to see through the darkest of dark, to immobilize its enemies without fail, and how it could unlock any door it come across. Yes, there was no mistaking the reason why Malfoy purchased the item. It had been the only way to successfully escape under the cover of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.

"I see that you're interested in the Hand of Glory." Mr. Borgin chuckled as he stepped away from the counter and made his way towards Hermione. Once he approached, Mr. Borgin marched up to the Hand of Glory and began removing the object from the pedestal it was seemingly stuck to. Hermione watched in curiosity at the procedure Mr. Borgin performed. He grabbed hold of the wrist and gripped it tight. The Hand of Glory suddenly moved on its own and grabbed hold of Mr. Borgin's own wrist. "You see, the trick is that you have to choke it by the wrist. Hee hee, it's always feisty, but once you get the hang of it..." Mr. Borgin continued to hold onto the Hand of Glory. Eventually, the device loosened its hold on Mr. Borgin and slackened which he used to his advantage by jerking it out of the pedestal. Mr. Borgin turned back to Hermione, grinning, "See? Nothing to it!"

Hermione was disgusted by the display.

"Well, what do you think? Someone showed some interest in it a bit ago, but for the right price, it's yours. I won't say a word about what you want to do with it."

She weighed her options. For one, it would be kept out of the hands of those that would use it for misdeeds such as Malfoy. But on the other hand, Hermione felt a drop in her stomach that urged her not to acquire the item. Unfortunately, Hermione saw no reason why she shouldn't get it other than the trepidation that settled over her. It would prove extremely useful as it would be able to open locked doors and immobilize enemies. Thinking back on it, Hermione could remember numerous time such a device would have come in handy. However...

"How do you use it?"

Mr. Borgin's smile grew bigger. He took hold of the Hand of Glory by the wrist, lifting it up above him as if it was an attachment of his being. Suddenly, an illuminating light emanated from its wretched shape, making the room glow in an eerie white hue. Mr. Borgin lowered his arm, causing the glow to fade, and then promptly placed the hand on one of the locked cabinets that was close to him. Hermione could hear the tumbling of gears and other mechanisms within the lock shift until a resounding click was heard that signaled it was unlocked, "It's all a matter of thinking what you want it to do. Like casting a spell silently. It does what it does by the whim of the holder my dear."

The intellectual side of her was fascinated. Hermione pondered on how such an object was given its abilities. She knew that there had to be a dark ritual involved in order to make it so. It was both exhilarating and terrifying to witness such a display of magical potency in a single item other than a wand. Underneath the hood of her cloak, Hermione made eye contact with Mr. Borgin who watched her with such keen interest. Finally, when Hermione regained her bearings and had firmly made her decision, Hermione asked, "What is the cost?"

"No cost. No cost at all. I know that the Dark Lord is in need of well-suited followers. I have heard from a reliable source within the Ministry that several of his followers had been captured." Mr. Borgin chuckled mirthlessly and offered the Hand of Glory to Hermione, "Please, the next time you see the Dark Lord and Bellatrix, tell them that this humble servant is more than willing to please for the Pureblood cause. Perhaps you, young initiate, may gain favor in their eyes."

Hermione paused to analyze what Mr. Borgin had told her. Apparently, he believed her to be a Death Eater. Hermione could not dismiss that her attire looked suspicious. She had chosen to wear a black robe to hide her identity. However, what concerned her was Mr. Borgin's behavior. He ran a shop filled with rare and perhaps valuable commodities. How could he not be suspicious of a stranger entering his store? Though it may be true that Death Eaters visited him frequently, how was Mr. Borgin able to distinguish a Death Eater from an auror that was undercover. It simply did not have any logic at all. Or perhaps...

Too late.

With a sudden jerk, the Hand of Glory that was being held by her left hand abruptly grasped her wand arm in a painful grip. Grunting from the pain, Hermione attempted to pry the Hand of Glory from her forearm to no success. Her eyes widened with horror as Mr. Borgin grinned rather manically and pulled out his wand from his back pocket screaming, "AH HA! Did you foolishly think I could not see through you! _Stupefy!_"

At the start of the incantation, Hermione realized that at such close quarters, it was almost impossible to dodge a barrage of spells. Ignoring the Hand of Glory cutting off the circulation to her right hand, Hermione bolted forward and smashed into Mr. Borgin with her shoulder. Caught off balance, the old man stumbled backward into a display of trinkets. The red bolt of his spell was shot upward, splintering the wooden ceiling. While Mr. Borgin was momentarily stunned, Hermione reached into her robe's right sleeve and pulled out her own wand.

Mr. Borgin growled both in pain and anger as he shot up from the broken glass and wood with his wand firmly in place. He shot another mass of magical energy towards Hermione, but this time, she was ready. Hermione ducked downward and strafed left. Behind her, another display of items was destroyed and the remains nicked her clothing. Hermione jabbed her wand forward and focused her mind on the Disarming Spell, shouting, "_Expelliarmus!_"

A jet of red lightning barreled out from the tip of her wand and towards Mr. Borgin. On top of being inexperienced in combat, his body was pass its peak; he was unable to avoid the spell. The spell struck Mr. Borgin by the wrist that sent his wand flying. His wand fell to the ground on the other side of the counter behind him, making it hard for Mr. Borgin to reclaim his wand in the midst of their battle. Wandless and outmatched, Mr. Borgin stopped in his tracks and raised both his hands up as a sign of surrender. Mr. Borgin sneered, making his face more vile than ever, "Fool. The Dark Lord would hear of this."

The Hand of Glory cluttered to the floor, sensing its owner losing to the witch whose wand was trained on his person. Hermione glared at Mr. Borgin coldly, feelings of hate rising in her heart. In a mocking tone, Hermione asked him, "Why should he care for the likes of you? To him, you're _nothing_."

"LIES!" Mr. Borgin cried out in a fit of rage, "My family has been an asset to him. It has been like this since my father ran this shop!"

"Ha! That's a laugh. Look at you, I bet you're not even a _true _Death Eater!" Hermione flicked her wand. A gash appeared on Mr. Borgin's sleeves and the cloth around his forearms was removed. Just as she expected, there was no Dark Mark, "You don't even have his mark on you and you dare to say that he holds you in some regard? Idiotic. Simply idiotic."

Hermione did not know what possessed her to be verbally cruel with the man in front of her. Perhaps it was the fact that she simply had enough of these imbeciles who chose to follow a murderer. Seeing him being so fervent to the cause of the dogma prevalent in Voldemort's circle was enough to make her seethe with volcanic ire. So she attempted to crush him. Hermione wanted him to taste utter devastation when he realized that all of his efforts were meaningless. But she quelled that desire, or at least she tried to. It was sickening to know that there was a darker side to her that no one was aware of; this _evil_ facet of her personality held a being that terrified her to the core.

"HOW DARE YOU-" Mr. Borgin rushed forward in a fit of anger. However, Hermione would have none of it. She surmised that Mr. Borgin, out of desperation, relinquished all cognitive processes for one final charge. Instead of success, he was met with a wave of overpowering magic that lifted him off his feet and sent him hurtling into the vanishing cabinet next to his counter before he could finish his sentence. Hermione breathed out a sigh of relief when she found that the Banishing Charm had knocked Mr. Borgin out of commission.

Their brief duel had finished.

Her objective was complete. The force of Mr. Borgin colliding with the vanishing cabinet had destroyed it. She had intended for it to be dismantled to begin with anyway. But there was still a matter that needed to be resolved. Originally, Hermione only believed that Mr. Borgin was a sympathizer to the Death Eater's cause. To find that he had been a follower, albeit not a marked one, was worrisome. There could be countless others that were like him who did not have the Dark Mark and would willingly cooperate with Voldemort and his ilk. Umbridge came to mind. What was she to do with Mr. Borgin and his shop? It was filled with dangerous and dark objects that could be used against the innocent magical populace. What's worse was that Mr. Borgin was more than willing to part ways with his collectables to Death Eaters.

_No, I can't...I can't leave him alive. If I let him live here and now, he is going to go out and kill more people._ Hermione concluded. She stared at the unconscious form of the shopkeeper and knew what needed to be done. _I have killed Death Eaters before. This is war and in order for there be less losses on my side, I have to eliminate those that populate the other._

Silently, Hermione exited Borgin and Burkes and stood at its entrance. She stared hollowly inside the now destroyed interior of the building and raised her wand. Hermione thought back to the vow she had made before. She had made an oath that she would do whatever it takes to make the world much better than how she lived it in her past. Her mind raced back to the face of Harry whose gentle smile and laughing eyes filled her with such powerful emotions. Everything she did was for him. Hermione did not want to see him again with calm resignation to death; the disposition that he had during the Horcrux Hunt. They will not have that future.

"_Incendio._"

With a simple spell she learned in Third Year, Borgin and Burkes was lit ablaze. Inside, an swirling inferno of fire engulfed everything within. Hermione took a few steps back to observe her work. The fire was controlled; it would only burn the dreaded shop that was before her. She dared not think of what was happening to Mr. Borgin. Truthfully, Hermione cared little for that man. She had been willing to remove the memories of her parents and send them off far away; feeling anything for an enemy, a hysterical supporter of a killer was unthinkable. The flames danced viciously inside the shop, reflecting her passion and devotion to her cause as well as the tumultuous feelings that dwelled within her.

Hermione turned her back on the burning building.

_Crack!_

She was gone.

Hermione would return to her car and drive back to the home of her parents. She would enthusiastically tell her parents what a wonderful day she had at Harry's while sparing what changed between the two of them. She would then laugh at some of the odd jokes her father would spew and then glare amusingly at an off-hand remark by her mother. Hermione would then end the day by sleeping in her own bed as she dreamed of lackadaisical days with her friends. Then, when she awoke, Hermione would resume her typical routine. She would ignore that she had set fire to a shop filled with dangerous magical objects. She would ignore that she killed a man in cold blood. She would remind herself that she did it for the greater good.

But she would _never_ forget what she had done and what she will do in the future.

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: And so another chapter is over. Honestly, this turned out much better than the original version. The first part had too many ideas crammed in together and it was _just_terrible. So I scrapped it and wrote this. I think it's much better than the original copy. Anyway, I have been hinting for quite awhile that not everything is alright with Hermione inside her head. I don't want to say that this 'dark', but I acknowledge that her actions are subject to debate. I wonder what path Hermione would take ultimately. I hope it's a happy ending. Anyway, here's something for all of you to laugh about. Points for guessing the reference.

_**The Reason Why Luna was Somewhat Unharmed while Imprisoned**_:

**Voldemort**: "Of all of history's monsters, you are by far the most evil thing I have ever encountered. Offer your loyalty to me dark one!"

**Luna**: "If you don't mind, I would rather not. Father would be terribly displeased if I turned dark; Crumple-Horned Snorkacks tend to cower away from such unpleasantness."


	12. Chapter XII

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: Another chapter! I have to admit that this is unedited somewhat. I have a dental surgery to go to soon and I'm not sure if I will have the capacity to look over it once it is over, so I decided to put it up now. However, despite its flaws, I personally like this chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter XI****I**

It had been five days since the incident at Borgin and Burkes. Hermione was spread out on Harry's bed, her head laying on top of Harry's single pillow that was now charmed to increase comfort. Alongside that were the sheets and mattress and were now magically cleaned from all stains that had previously been there permanently. Above her and held by her two hands was the _Daily Prophet_. On the cover of the newspaper that had once scorned Harry and now labeling him a hero was the new piece, "Borgin and Burkes in Flames!"

It was a sensationalized – of course it was, the _Daily Prophet_ wrote it after all – account of what 'truly' happened in Borgin and Burkes. It was purportedly believed that Mr. Borgin, being a stand-up and model wizard despite his penchant for selling dark artifacts, was boldly denying service to Death Eaters who had been trying to coerce him into letting go several dangerous objects for their use. Mr. Borgin took a stand against these terrifying adversaries and set fire to his own shop. Unfortunately, Mr. Borgin was struck unconscious by a spell and was burned in the flames himself. He was a true hero and a martyr for the people.

Hermione had to roll her eyes at that. She was surprised it had taken several days for the _Daily Prophet_ to publish the article concerning the destruction of the store. Nevertheless, she knew the truth behind that entire debacle. Mr. Borgin and his loathsome shop was no more thanks to her. At first, Hermione felt she should have grieved over taking another human's life. In reality though, she felt no reaction or extreme emotions that she expected to have. Only the satisfaction that she had done a service for the good of society was there in her heart. Though concerned, Hermione pushed away those thoughts as quick as they came. Dwelling on it would do no good.

She shifted her focus away from the article and to the young man that sat at his desk diligently writing. Harry was finishing up with what remained of his summer assignments. Hermione had suggested she looked over it, but to her surprise, Harry insisted that he did so on his own. Harry's new proactive stance was remarkable and a bit refreshing considering the amount of times she had been his human spellchecker. Though she deftly wondered what brought this subtle change, Hermione wasn't one to look at a gift horse in the mouth.

It was only when the frantic scratching of Harry's quill died down that Hermione spoke up from the bed, "Are you finished Harry?"

"Almost," came the immediate reply, "I just need to write a concluding paragraph for the Transfiguration paper and then I'll be all set to enjoy the rest of my summer."

Hermione smiled, her tone cheerful, "That's wonderful Harry! Are you sure you don't need my help?"

"I'm fine Hermione, but thank you for offering. I have this under control."

Though pensive at first, Hermione simply relented and went back to her reading. According to the political section of the _Daily Prophet_, there were rumors that Fudge was to soon step down from his position as Minister of Magic. Hermione was convinced that it wasn't purely fabrication considering the events of the previous continuity. As she continued on with the section, there was speculation on who was the most likely candidate for Minister. The names Bones, Scrimgeour, and Thicknesse were all accounted for, but to her surprise, Arthur Weasley was also amongst the names of potential Ministers.

Now _that_ was an interesting thought. Hermione supposed it wouldn't be too bad to have Ron's father as the Minister of Magic. He was a well-meaning family man who would often try to do the right thing. With that in mind, Arthur would do wonders as the leader of Magical Britain. But – there was always a but – was he capable of being a suitable chief in wartime? Sure his personality traits and morals would no doubt make him an astounding Minister during peacetime, but given the rising crisis of Voldemort and Death Eaters, was he truly suitable? _Then again_, Hermione thought, _he certainly held it together at Hogwarts even when Fred died. _Hermione did recall during her many conversations with Molly that when he had been younger, Arthur was the spitting image of his son, Bill. Handsome, cool, intelligent, and with an air of absolute confidence? No wonder strong-willed women such as Fleur and Molly fell for them.

Other than the speculation of candidates, there was nothing else worthwhile to read in the _Daily Prophet_. There had been a gossip column where the writer rambled on and on about celebrities in the wizarding world, but Hermione was not one to read such trivialities. Although, it did amuse her to find that there was a mention of Harry within its musings. She made the exception and read that tiny tidbit. Much to her amusement, she found theories of Harry's relationship status. Once again, the _Daily Prophet_ had painted her as the number one mistress of Harry's love life. Someone from Hogwarts must have tipped the _Daily Prophet_ that Harry deliberately left his date with Cho to meet her from a few months ago. While it was true, there was little to no context as to his reasons. Nevertheless, it was entertaining to read about society's profound absorption over a lad's love life like a couple of school girls.

After drawing that comparison, the image of Lavender and Parvati huddling together in a corner whispering and giggling came to mind. Hermione heartily chuckled at that picture. Harry stopped his writing once more and turned his head towards Hermione, he asked, "What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing Harry. Just an amusing thought popped into my head." Hermione felt no need to elaborate, "Harry, have you gotten a letter from either Ginny or Ron yet?"

"Now that you mention it, I haven't. They should already be in Romania aren't they? Are you worried about something?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, I was just curious. They did promise to write."

"Maybe," Harry grinned, "They're having too much fun to even bother sending us an owl."

"Probably. Maybe Ron found himself a nice girl while he is there."

Harry snorted, "Doubtful. He's not exactly suave."

"True." Suddenly, mischief appeared in her eyes, "But he is becoming quite the attractive bloke. I've noticed a few girls from Hogwarts who were somewhat interested in him."

"You're _kidding_."

"Nope." She smiled, "For a time, even I was a little smitten."

"Okay, now you're taking the mickey out of me." Harry abruptly accused, "You really had a crush on Ron?"

"I have two best friends who are boys, it can't be helped if I start developing feelings for _one of them_."

The two friends shared a knowing grin before the two of them. The banter ended but the two were left feeling content. Over the course of the past several days, they had settled into a comfortable level of their newfound relationship; the awkwardness at the beginning ended as soon as it began, something which surprised Hermione. It made Hermione realize how easy it was being with Harry. The two of them had no expectations for one another and they were free to be who they truly are without feeling judged. There was no need to try to be someone they were not.

_Knock. Knock._

"Harry. Door." Hermione mentioned as she turned the page of the _Daily Prophet_.

"Can you get it? I'm almost done writing."

Silently getting up from his bed, Hermione closed the magical newspaper and placed it on top of the bed. Swinging her feet across the mattress, she stepped onto the floor and took the few steps towards Harry's door. Hermione unlocked it and opened it, revealing Harry's enormous cousin, Dudley, on the other side. His eyes were furrowed into a glare, but Hermione recognized that it was more out of concentration rather than actual malice. Hermione crossed her arms, raising an inquisitive eyebrow and asked, "Can I help you?"

Dudley was clearly surprised that Hermione was in Harry's room. She questioned why he would be in the first place considering her father's car was parked just outside. Unfortunately for her, he began acting like a regular teenage boy and started leering at her lustfully. He tried to hide it, but she was far too perceptive for it to be effective. Mentally, she cringed in disgust. Finally, he sputtered out, "I'm here to talk to Potter."

"Finished." Harry exclaimed from his desk. He then turned around, curiously watching his cousin, "What is it Dud?"

"I...er..." As Dudley tried to find the words, Hermione took the opportunity to flop back to Harry's bed. She was worried that if she didn't get away from the boy soon, Hermione would remember all the nasty things he had done to Harry and she would then would have the untamed urge to eviscerate the tub of lard on the spot. Dudley calmed down and slowly said, "I wanted to say thanks for...for last year. You know...saving me from those..._things_."

Hermione surmised that Dudley was talking about the dementors that visited Privet Drive last summer. Harry, noticeably surprised by Dudley's gratitude, awkwardly replied, "Oh, well, no problem Dud."

"Well, that's all I wanted to say." Dudley turned to leave hurriedly

Hermione had other plans. She affixed a glare upon Dudley's retreating form and called out to him, "Wait."

Harry's cousin stopped and turned around, he had a look that could be described as both confusion and apprehensive fear. Meanwhile, Harry stared at Hermione curiously. Hermione did not let up on her glower and resumed speaking, "Is that _all_ you have to say to Harry?"

"W-what do you mean?" Dudley stammered, intimidated by Hermione's threatening voice.

Realizing how she may appeared to Dudley, Hermione knew that her current state was counterproductive to what she intended. Stopping herself from speaking any further before things got out of her control, Hermione took in a deep breath and calmed herself. Politely, Hermione answered, "Harry literally saved your life. Those things are called dementors and they literally suck the soul out of you. If it wasn't for Harry, you would have been left in a catatonic state and have a fate much worse than death."

Dudley's eyes widened at the realization, making Hermione wonder if he was actually more perceptive than Harry made him out to be. He looked at Harry, "Is that true?"

"Hermione doesn't lie about that sort of thing." Harry confirmed, interested in what Hermione was trying to do.

"So, what are you trying to say then?" Dudley questioned Hermione.

"An apology for one thing," Hermione stated icily, "I know all about Harry's home life. I know for a fact that you used to bully him when he was younger. Not only that, I also know your parents have neglected Harry ever since he was a toddler. This place," She gestured the entire house, "Is nothing more than a prison to Harry. He could have grown up to be the vilest person I have ever met due to the horrid upbringing that had went on here. But he didn't. Harry is the most caring man I have ever had the pleasure to meet. If he was anything less, he could have left you to rot in that alley."

"Hermione," Harry interrupted, his voice soft that hinted concern for her well-being, "I think that's enough."

Hermione shook her head and regarded Harry, "No. He has to hear this. His mother and father are terrible people and he has to see reality." She turned back to a stunned Dudley, "Your mother and father are vindictive people. As much as they try to be normal, what they have done to Harry is largely considered abuse."

"B-but, dad said it was just punishment! What abuse was there!"

"What you think is 'punishment' is abuse in the eyes of the law. You are an intelligent boy aren't you? Surely you can see this?" Hermione inquired him calmly, subtly stroking his ego, "You know what you saw was not right. I do not blame you for having harmed Harry in the past. You were ignorant and that can be forgiven. However, now that you know. What are you going to do?"

"M-mum a-a-always said that you m-magical folks were b-bad and that you were always out to h-hurt us."

Hermione took Dudley's statement and analyzed it. As she had thought, Dudley's was woefully nescient on his knowledge of magical society. But who could blame him? His parents were prejudice and distrusting people. Having grown up in his environment for so long, of course Dudley would believe whatever his parents said about magic and magical people in general. It wasn't too late to change his opinion. Dudley was young and was still questioning the world around him. It would only take a push in the right direction. Hermione was aware that she may not change Dudley's bullying of other children or other flaws in his personality, but she can ensure that Dudley would never treat Harry badly ever again. She capitalized on his gratitude in order to try and achieve that desired result.

"Look at Harry and I. Aren't we teenagers just like you?"

"Y-yeah."

"Did you know that we're also considered one of the most powerful wizard and witch of our age group?"

Dudley gulped.

"No, that wasn't a threat." Hermione chuckled disportedly, "I am just informing you that aside from our ability to do magic, magical teens are just like regular teens. I know two girls from my dorm who could do nothing but gossip about the latest trends. We sometimes get the urge to snog every now and then." She winked, causing Dudley to blush.

"But those red-haired guys and that big, hairy man did those things where they changed me!" Dudley accosted angrily, "I mean, I didn't even do anything to them and they just went ahead and..."

"I know," Hermione frowned, "I am not saying that all wizard and witches are all nice and kind. For the most part, a lot of them don't have the common sense that you, Harry, and I have. They have a different way of thinking that can be odd to you. In fact, I won't lie and say that it's peaceful either. Like in non-magical society, there are those who would wish to do harm to others. There are bad people out there who want to exterminate people with no magic. But on the other end of the spectrum, there are also people like Harry who are truly kind and generous. And like Harry, they will not hesitate to help you out if you are ever in need of it."

Hermione could see the gears turning in Dudley's head. She had given him enough information to mull over. What he did with that information was entirely up to him, "Think over it Dudley."

Dudley opened his mouth to speak further but stopped. Instead, he took one last glance at Harry before scurrying off, closing Harry's door along the way. Hermione, satisfied, melted into the bed. As she grew comfortable in her position, Hermione glimpsed at Harry. He was frowning as he was lost in thought. She called out to him, "Harry? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Harry sighed heavily, "But I wish you hadn't done that."

"Why not?" Hermione was more bewildered than angry, "I thought I did the right thing."

"I don't want to be reminded what my aunt and uncle did. I don't even want to acknowledge it. I just want to get out of here and never confront them ever again. Dudley included."

"That's silly."

"Is it Hermione?" Harry flippantly asked, "You weren't the one who had to go through living them for most of your life."

Hermione was silent. She mused over what Harry had said. It was true, she hadn't gone through what he did and she would never understand the emotional pain that Harry had underwent during his time with the Dursleys. But she was baffled as to why he was so set against her lecture. Then, flashbacks of Harry's opinion over the Dursleys over the years occurred in her mind.

"_Proud of me? My aunt and uncle would be disappointed that I hadn't gotten myself killed!"_

"_My aunt has a horse-like face and my uncle is as big as a whale! My cousin has the qualities of both!"_

"_Uncle Vernon didn't sign my permission slip. Can't say I wasn't surprised."_

"_To be honest, I don't know why I saved Dudley. I just knew I had to. He was...always there."_

"You never thought of them as human did you?"

"Of course I do!"

"No, that's not what I meant. I mean, to you, they were nothing more than just something that was part of our life. Always there, always stagnant. In truth, you really hate them don't you?"

"I..."

"And because you hate them, you dehumanize them. You don't think of your relatives as human beings. Because if you do, then you would feel guilty for hating them for what they did to you."

"No...I..."

Hermione reached out to Harry and pulled him to her. He resisted at first, but soon relented. Harry fell onto the bed, his head resting on her lap. Soothingly, she ran her fingers softly through his messy hair. She tipped her head, gazing directly into Harry's eyes, "It's okay Harry. It's okay to hate the Dursleys for what they did. It's okay to have that feeling. It only makes you human. I know you love me. I know you love the Weasleys. I know you love Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, Remus, Sirius, and all those people you care for. You don't have to love your relatives, they were cruel and vindictive to you in ways that should never be condoned. Hate them Harry, feel free to hate them for the rest of your life. You have to accept it. But don't let it consume you. You're a better person than they could ever be so have this reprieve."

Harry's lips trembled. Then, forcefully, he declared, "I hate them. I hate them so much. My parents are _dead_. They were supposed to take care of me. Instead, I was starved, locked in a cupboard, and was showered with nothing but neglect. I bet I can cast the Killing Curse on all of them and not even feel anything." Harry gazed at Hermione solemnly, "But I won't do anything to them. I'm not Voldemort. I'm not going to go down that path."

"Good." She smiled.

Hermione knew Harry well. Despite his bravery and the charisma that made others want to follow him, he did not have the heart to kill someone. He was far too forgiving. Even if his naivety were to vanish, his morals stopped him from committing the act of murder even if it was out of self-defense. This was Harry's best and worst trait. A war loomed over the horizon. Harry could never bring himself to kill not even if it was Voldemort. This facet of his personality was not advantageous when struggling for life and death.

She will not have Harry be placed in that position. Even if it was his destiny to fell Voldemort, it would not be Harry, personally, that will cause his downfall.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..._

_born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..._

_and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not..._

_and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..._

She will become the hand that Harry will use to vanquish his nemesis.

That much was certain.

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: If one has the capacity to love, then one also has the capacity to hate. Hermione tells Harry that it's alright for him to hate his relatives for that they did to him. It's a perfectly natural reaction. However, the key is that Harry should not be consumed by it. He acknowledges this. I wanted to show that sometimes dark thoughts aren't evil. I am sure some of us entertained some rather bad thoughts before that would never be uttered vocally. Anyway, that's a little depressing, so enjoy this little sketch.

* * *

><p><strong>What If Ron and Hermione Dated and Broke Up in Sixth Year!<strong>

**Hermione**: "Look Ron, I'm sorry that things didn't work out between us."

**Ron**: "..."

**Snape**: "Now, does anyone have the faintest idea of how to efficiently defend oneself from a..."

**Ron**: [Raises hand]

**Snape**: "...Weasley?"

**Ron**: "I'm sorry Professor, I don't know the answer. However, I DO know that Hermione Granger is a spiteful tart."

**Snape**: "..."

**Hermione**: "..." [Readies fist]

**Ron**: [Relaxes into chair]

**Snape**: "Excellent Weasley, 10 Points to Gryffindor!"

**Hermione**: "What!"

**Ron**: u_u

Guess what this was parodied of.


	13. Chapter XIII

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: This goes to the reviewer who wanted Hermione to interact with Snape: Your wish has been granted. Also, for the parody sketch last chapter, that was from 'Simply Potterific" by ktshy. It's an amazing series of comics that are absolutely hilarious. Points to citygirlgeek2 for guessing accurately. Also to the anonymous reviewer who was questioning why Hermione was able to cast magic without repercussions is because Dumbledore had placed a ward around Harry's relatives' home that enables magic to be undetected and when Hermione fought Mr. Borgin in Knockturn Alley, they were in a heavily populated magical center and thus no one from the Ministry could have determined that it was Hermione had done the magic.

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter XIII**

Hermione studied the Hand of Glory propped up on her desk. Her curtains were drawn closed, depriving light from entering her bedroom in the late morning. In addition to the time, there were gray clouds overhead that blocked the bright rays of the sun. However, despite these factors, her room was completely lit as if the lights of the ceiling was on. It was all thanks to the device laid out in front of her. She had a firm grip on its wrist and her thoughts were focused on achieving light from the decrepit source. The disturbing glow centered at its palm had emerged and had bathed the room of its shine. Hermione relax the pressure holding onto its wrist and immediately the glow stopped. Her room was dark again.

She opened the curtains and allowed what little light to enter. Hermione sat at the desk and took her pen, jotting down her observations onto a notepad. _The Hand of Glory's light can differ based on preference._Hermione grabbed hold of the Hand of Glory again. This time, the tip of its middle finger shot a beam of light upward in the same fashion as a flashlight. She released her hold and finished writing her notes.

[-]

Hermione stood there watching Borgin and Burkes burn to the ground. She had to leave soon or else others would arrive. As she turned to leave she stopped when something caught her eye. There, at the front of the door was the wretched hand that had grabbed her. Though the smoldering flames were close to reaching the device, the Hand of Glory remained in perfect condition. She thought the hand was beckoning her to come nearer. Though she wanted nothing to do with it, she felt she could not resist. Tentatively, Hermione reached out and grabbed the Hand of Glory the same way Mr. Borgin had done.

As her fingertips touched the skin of the severed limb, Hermione experienced a wet sensation coming from her index finger. She raised her finger and found a small prick on her fingertip that dropped a dribble of blood from the wound. Hermione surmised that she must have gotten it from the scuffle with Mr. Borgin from earlier. Nevertheless, the mixing of her blood and the Hand of Glory begat a strange feeling within her. It was if the hand was conversing with her, whispering its pleasure of having found its new master. It sent shivers down her spine.

[-]

Hermione opened an empty drawer on her desk and placed the Hand of Glory there. She closed it and promptly locked it with a key. She did not know what possessed her to take the hand on that day. A part of her reasoned that if she had left it there, it could have been found by a less desirable individual; taking it would have ensured that it would not fall into the wrong hands. But, Hermione wondered, what if she had been seduced by the power it held and took it for her own machinations? That was something that troubled her and something she consciously ignored. It had taken her days before she had the nerve to finally study it in order to have a full assessment of its capabilities; thankfully it left almost no trace of magic or else she would have been caught by the Ministry already. So far, the dark feelings that arose from its use did not occur, for now it was only a magical tool that she had to understand if it was going to be of any use.

She began rearranging the items atop her desk. Hermione stacked the textbooks for her courses into one pile and generated another set next to it that contained her miscellaneous books. She opened another drawer and placed the notepad and pen within it. Her desk was now bare except for the single letter at the center. It was from the Headmaster and she had received it the previous night. It read:

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_Excuse me for not having arrived at your home sooner. My various occupations had kept me rather busy from attending to the business I promised you. As you may already have been aware, your home is being watched over by several members of the Order of the Phoenix in order to protect your muggle parents and yourself from those that wish to do you harm. However, I find that protection to be largely inadequate and I assure you that I will arrive tomorrow to place the wards necessary to ensure your absolute safety. Considering that young Harry is to arrive at your home soon, it is a task most imperative. Please be ready for my arrival by noon tomorrow._

_Signed, _

_Albus Dumbledore_

Hermione checked the clock. It was two minutes until noon.

_The Headmaster will be here at any moment._ Hermione set the letter down from where she had picked it up and left the room. She made her way downstairs and into the kitchen, tasking herself to brew tea for the arrival of her guest. Dumbledore had given no indications of his progress with the Horcruxes and she needed to know if her foreknowledge had been of any use. The sooner those objects were destroyed, the sooner she would be able to breathe easier. The thought of such artifacts existing brought chills to her spine and she had nothing but contempt for them and their owner.

But...

The main problem was how to eliminate the Horcrux that resided in Harry's scar that did not result in the destruction of the container. There _had_ to be a way to safely remove a piece of Voldemort's soul from her best friend, but she had no materials to begin her research. Any books on the subject of Horcruxes were in the hands of the Headmaster and there was no way to retrieve them without arousing suspicion onto herself. She speculated that there could be tomes covering the subject in Knockturn Alley. Unfortunately, she would not know where to begin and how she would be successful in acquiring it. The Black Family library was also another option, but seeing as it was still currently being used by the Order of the Phoenix for meetings, she had no doubt that she would come across an Order member whilst she searched.

Hermione wondered if she bit off more than she could chew. Her resources were limited and if she had the help of the Headmaster, perhaps they could somehow find a way to succeed. That was doubtful. She had to remind herself that Dumbledore knew that the Horcrux was within Harry and had deliberately planned for him to meet his death in the final battle so that Voldemort would be rendered mortal. Who could say he would not do the same then? No, that was a risk she wasn't willing to take. She could only trust Dumbledore to a certain extent. She could trust him to side with the Light. She could trust him to lead the Order of the Phoenix. She could _not_ trust him to care for Harry's well-being if it did not suit him.

_Ding-dong!_

_Speak of the devil._ Hermione stood up from her seat in the kitchen and went to answer the door. To her surprise, it was not Dumbledore stood at her door. It was not even McGonagall or any other Order member that she cared to remember. Standing there was none other than Severus Snape. Her eyes immediately narrowed as she stared pointedly at the man. She felt more anger than actual surprise but nevertheless wondered why _he_, of all people, was at her home. Just because the Headmaster trusted the former Death Eater, it did not mean she did. Despite that she had watched him die in front of her, she could never forget how he had willingly killed Dumbledore and how he had been placed as the new Headmaster of Hogwarts after his demise.

"Professor Snape." Hermione greeted evenly, "What are _you_ doing here?"

Snape sneered, gazing with contempt for the young witch, "I come at the bequest of the Headmaster to help with the wards that will be placed here."

Hermione chastised Dumbledore in her mind for not leaving a warning of Snape's appearance. The professor stood patiently on the front step, waiting for her invitation to come in. She likened Snape's dark ensemble and aloof demeanor to that of a vampire wanting to be welcomed into a maiden's home to feast upon her succulent blood. Hermione frowned at the image and pushed it from her mind. Courteously, Hermione allowed Snape entry, "Please come in professor."

Snape didn't hesitate to meet her request. As soon as she had given him the permission, the despised Hogwarts professor swiftly walked past her in long, heavy strides. Hermione closed the front door and overtook him. Silently, she led him into the living room and gestured the couch for him to take, "Would you like some tea?"

Cold, dark eyes fell upon her as she asked the simple question. Hermione idly wondered if he was going to make an obnoxious retort that would solidify her detest of the man, but instead she was met with a far more civil response, "I will take your offer Granger." His face remained stoic and aloof, traces of the sneer he had earlier having vanished.

Perturbed by the sudden mood shift, Hermione quietly wondered if he had used occlumency to swiftly hide his emotions. She slipped into the kitchen once again and brought out the tea. After pouring the warm liquid into its cups, she offered one to Snape who took it silently. Hermione sat on the armchair close to the couch with her own tea in hand and promptly sipped it. Immediately, she felt the awkward tension that filled her home ever since Snape's arrival. Being alone with Snape, a man who she came to despise, was not something she would ever gladly look forward to. Using the quiet to her advantage, Hermione asked him, "Will the Headmaster take long to arrive?"

"No," Snape monotonously stated, "He will be here shortly."

"I guess it can't be helped." Hermione muttered quietly, having hoped for an answer that wasn't so vague, "Though, I am surprised that you are here. Isn't Dumbledore more than enough?"

"The Headmaster may be knowledgeable with various branches of magic, but even he isn't all-knowing as you claim he is."

"I am more than aware of his fallibility. However, I trust him far more than you professor." Hermione retorted back bitterly, surprising herself on how venomous her words had become.

Snape, surprised by the bluntness of her words, stared at Hermione. His face continued to remain unreadable, no doubt with the use of occlumency. Instead of answering right away, Snape leaned back against the furniture and crossed one leg over the other, then said, "I see. I'm not surprised considering you believe it was I that would kill Dumbledore." At the look of surprise on Hermione's face, he sneered, "Yes, the Headmaster had told me all about how you are from the future. The Granger I knew before would have flustered on how disrespectful she was acting towards a Hogwarts professor."

"I can't say I'm surprised." Hermione chuckled mirthlessly, "Dumbledore always says he trusts you. I see even the truth of how he was killed has failed to break that level of trust the two of you came to have."

"A know-it-all such as yourself would never understand the motivations that the Headmaster and I have."

"So you say professor, but, nevertheless, you are a petty, vindictive man who doesn't deserve any of my respect."

Before Snape could respond to blatantly insulting words, the doorbell rung again. Instantly, Hermione stood up and left Snape to answer the door. From the corner of her eye as she passed the professor, she saw Snape not appearing enraged as she thought he would be. Instead, he remained unnaturally still, his eyes lost somewhere else. Ignoring him, Hermione marched up to the door and opened it. As she suspected, Dumbledore stood at the entrance. Instead of the colorful robes that she often had seen him wear at Hogwarts, he was garbed in a solid, cool colored formal attire.

"Good day Miss Granger. My apologies for being late, the Ministry has me busy ever since the term has ended." Dumbledore explained, smiling in an amicable manner, "May I step in?"

Hermione smiled, "Of course Headmaster. Professor Snape already arrived."

The two soon entered the living room where Snape continue to sit patiently. He had finished his tea and had set it on the tray where the rest of the set was. Dumbledore greeted the dour man with another one of his smiles, "I am glad to see that you have received my message Severus."

Snape bowed his head, "Of course Headmaster."

"Shall we get started Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked, turning to Hermione.

"What wards would you be putting up Headmaster?" Hermione inquired, curious as to what protections would be placed. Though her probing could be taken as part of Hermione's natural intellectual curiosity, it was more about ensuring that her parents and Harry had the best protection available.

Dumbledore, masking his surprise, replied, "The common wards that are usually placed on a home with a few minor adjustments. I have brought Professor Snape to put his own variation of defensive wards that would harm and forcefully evict any magical being that intends to do harm upon the people that resides here. While I am quite skilled, even I do not have all the knowledge." His eyes twinkled with slight amusement as he humbled himself.

Hermione cupped her chin as she thought over the arrangements. A question formulated in her mind that she quickly vocalized, "If I recall correctly, there are muggle repellant charms within a standard home ward correct?"

"I see that you know the general knowledge of wards Miss Granger." The Headmaster complimented, "That is one of the minor adjustments I will make. Rest assured Miss Granger, all is accounted for. I will even place the ward that would ensure that underage magic would not be detected. I have been informed that your frequent visits to the Dursley home has you consistently using magic am I correct?"

The young witch smiled sheepishly, "Remus told Harry that you were the one that placed the ward shortly before the end of term."

"He is correct." He acquiesced, "That was a measure I put into place so that the Ministry would not accost Harry for his magical use. However, I did not tell him so that he would not be encouraged to do it. Better safe than sorry. Though I cannot stop you from using magic once it is place, I encourage you to do be careful if you decide to do so."

"Of course Headmaster. I'll keep that in mind."

"Very well, let us begin." Dumbledore turned to Snape, "Severus, if you may?"

Snape stood up from where he had been sitting and revealed his wand underneath the sleeves of his robe. Dumbledore raised his wand and began performing a series of wand movements with practiced ease. With each finished movement, a floating, runic symbol appeared in mid-air which glowed bright with the magic imbued into it. Following him, Snape performed his own silent incantations. Unlike Dumbledore, he wasn't creating runic symbols, instead, he was linking the symbols that the Headmaster was making together.

For the next half hour, Hermione watched the two powerful wizards in a trance like daze, quietly memorizing and observing the spellwork of the Headmaster and the potions master. She was fascinated by the synergy the two of them had when working together. However, despite her awe, she could not bring herself to fully trust the man in dark robes. Try as she might, Hermione tried to understand what motivations the man had that made him act as he did. She attempted to look beyond the superficial mask of irritation that he constantly has, but her rage against him prevented herself from doing so.

It was not long before the work was finished. The runic symbols suddenly dispersed into different directions of the house and immediately she felt the flow of magical energy that now filled the ambiance of her home. Hermione released the tension she didn't know she had and suddenly felt a whole lot safer and secure than before. Dumbledore and Snape began checking the wards to see if it had been done properly. Once they finished their inspection, it was Snape that broke the silence, "It seems that everything has been correctly put into place Headmaster. May I take my leave now?"

Dumbledore nodded, "You may Severus. Again, I thank you for taking time out of your schedule to do this. Miss Granger, do you have anything to add?"

Hermione shook her head; if she opened her mouth, she had little doubt that she was going to make a scathing remark against the professor.

"Very well Severus, I hope you have a good day."

"Thank you Headmaster. Good bye." Not caring to make his farewell to Hermione, he swiftly turned away from the Headmaster and Hermione and proceeded to leave. He left through the front door, but the distinct sound of apparating was heard outside that indicated his full departure from the Granger household. Only Hermione and Dumbledore were left.

"Headmaster," Hermione began innocuously enough, finally having the chance to impose the question that she had been looking forward to asking, "How fares the hunt for the Horcruxes?"

The Headmaster immediately frowned, clearly uncomfortable with casual discussion of the abominable objects. However, despite his disapproval, he acted with great gravitas that befitted a man of his stature, "It has gone well Miss Granger. I have managed to obtain Slytherin's Locket and Ravenclaw's Diadem. Though it pains me to destroy such relics, it is for the good of all that they are gone. You are..." He hesitated slightly, "...correct with your assessment of having another individual with you. More than once these objects attempted to break me."

"But you have destroyed them?"

"You are correct. Gryffindor's Sword was more than enough to destroy the Diadem, but I had to resort to using _Fiendfyre_ to destroy the Locket."

Hermione nodded approvingly. It felt odd to her that everything was coming together quite easily. She could never forget the struggles that she, Harry, and Ron had to go through to even get one of the Horcruxes. It felt surreal that the simplistic nature of collecting the Horcruxes and it unnerved her slightly since it felt that something could go wrong at any point in time. Such were the benefits of foreknowledge. But she did not feel completely relieved as she thought she would be. While she was grateful that the Horcruxes were being destroyed one by one, her anxiety still largely remained. Upon a careful and swift dissection of psyche, she concluded that her worries were deeply rooted with the Horcrux that was within Harry. How was she going to remove the Horcrux from a living being?

"Headmaster, I have a question regarding the nature of Horcruxes." Hermione would ask, her tone piquing with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

"I will try my best to answer your question, but even I know only little of the devices." Dumbledore truthfully replied, his eyes gazing at her curiously through his half-moon spectacles.

Hermione avoided looking directly into the Headmaster's eyes, not wanting to be subject to the soul-piercing stare that always had; she felt that he would be able to discern her true intentions if they made eye contact, even without the use of legilimency, "Considering that Voldemort placed a Horcrux within Nagini, a living creature, I'm curious if the Horcrux could be destroyed or removed from it without harming the vessel."

"Quite the observation. I, too, was quite curious if a Horcrux could be removing from a living container without harming it. Unfortunately, many of my theories proved fruitless. My only conclusion is that even in the world of magic, it is impossible."

Hermione was afraid the Headmaster would say something like that, but despite her displeasure, she retained the calm facade that she presented as her exterior, "Thank you for entertaining one of my thoughts Headmaster."

"Of course Miss Granger. It is my duty to help you. Now if I may, I must take my leave. My duties are never over unfortunately." Dumbledore straightened his posture, revealing the stance of an able leader. Gone was the man whose eyes twinkled with kindness and mischief; this was an individual with the determination and charisma that could quell even the most uproarious politicians.

Hermione led Dumbledore to the door, a natural duty for a hostess when attending to a guest. Dumbledore passed through the threshold of the doorway and began walking down the cobbled stone path before stopping and turning slightly to face her. Curiously, Hermione eyed Dumbledore warily, pondering what he was about to do. To her surprise, a grave expression appeared on his countenance that exuded an aura of tranquil power. In a low, somber tone that provoked complete attention, Dumbledore said, "Miss Granger, I am more than aware that you were the cause for Mr. Borgin's death and the subsequent destruction of Borgin and Burkes. Tread carefully on the path you follow, Hermione. For every action that you take, you must deal with its consequences. Do not forget yourself lest you become consumed by your own darkness. Do what is needed, not what you can."

Leaving only the cryptic advice in his wake, Dumbledore then vanished without a sound.

Hermione remained standing at the doorway, her eyes narrowed where Dumbledore once stood. He _knew_ yet he did nothing but scold her. His words only solidified the danger he presented in her quest to ensure Harry's safety. However, there was something in his eyes that whispered to her that he had no malicious intent in his words. Dare she admit that she saw compassion and understanding in them?

Suddenly, she felt the bright rays of the sun shine down upon her. Covering her eyes with her hand, Hermione looked up and found that the gray clouds had finally passed. Its departure brought about the warmth and brightness of the sunlit sky which gave her nothing but discomfort. Hermione took a step back into her home; it was much cooler and darker. She closed the door in front of her and locked it.

_Click._

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: I would like to take the time to say a few words to my readers. After reading several of the reviews sent for this story, I came across many who seem worried that I would care less about their opinions. On the contrary, I care about them! I am not the type of author that would scoff at any negative criticisms headed towards my way; I am always grateful to anyone who took the time to read my story and had taken the liberty to leave a comment. Yes, I do get frustrated from time to time, but it is quickly forgotten. I acknowledge that sometimes my writing may not be clear enough which leads to several misinterpretations of the material. It just shows that I need to be improve my writing. Even if I don't reply to a review, I just wanted to let you all know that I carefully read every single one. What sort of author would I be if I do not care what your opinions are? Be it bad or good, criticisms are needed to ensure that you all get the best work I can give! Sorry, I got a little sentimental there.


	14. Chapter XIV

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: After two weeks, I have finally managed out a chapter. Lately, I have been so busy that I could never get into the mood to write this appropriately. I tried before but I could never express myself the way I wanted to. Fortunately, I was finally able to get what I wanted which allowed me to write this. I really hope you enjoy it. One scene in the following chapter was inspired by the story **Gamp's Finest Blend of Pretend **by **canoncansodoff**. There we go, a little disclaimer there so I don't have anyone accusing me of plagiarism. It helped form a neat idea.

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter XIV**

"So tell me about Harry."

Hermione stared blankly at her mother as she fastened her buckle in the car. Charlotte Granger smiled serenely at her daughter, her hands gently gripping the steering wheel as she patiently waited for Hermione's response. The young witch lightly frowned at the sudden question, "Mother, I'm sure I've told you all about him when I was younger."

Her mother rolled her eyes, her smile shifting to a curious grin, "Now Hermione, that was when the two of you were friends. Chalk it up to motherly instincts but I feel the two of you are something more now am I right?"

She could have easily refuted the claim and insisted that they were just friends. However, the changes over the last week and a half established that that was no longer the case. Besides, she knew she couldn't hide everything from her mother. Hermione, after all, had acquired her mother's perception. Heaving a sigh and shaking her head at her gossipy mother, she answered, "I guess you can say that. We're taking things slow though. We're not completely at lover status in a sense of being boyfriend or girlfriend, but we're not simply just friends now either. We're basically just testing the waters. How did you know?"

Charlotte's lips quivered into a knowing smirk, "Your father may not have noticed, but I certainly did. Whenever you come home, your lips would be slightly swollen and there was simply a skip to your step whenever you were around the house. You were positively radiating with happiness. My only guess was that something happened between you and Harry." She chuckled, "You remind me of myself so much when I was your age. I was just the same with your father when we first started seeing each other."

Hermione's mother started the car and began driving away from their house. Meanwhile, Hermione leaned back against the car seat, mulling over her mother's revelations. Had she been that obvious? Well, Hermione could certainly confess that she was enthralled with seeing Harry frequently. She was starting to view Harry in another light; a light that demonstrated the masculinity of his person that excited her sexually. Still, while it seemed her mother accepted it easily, Hermione was concerned with one more matter, "Mother, since you now know, then does this mean you're alright with Harry staying over?"

"Of course, we're already committed. It wouldn't do to back out on a promise. Besides, love, you're mature enough to know the consequences of what could happen if you're alone with a teenage boy." Hermione noticed her mother furrowing her brow as a thought crossed her mind, "Hermione, have you already had sex with Harry? I'm not angry if you have, but you have been visiting him quite often."

"No," Hermione answered, flustered but maintaining her composure, "I assure you, mother, that Harry and I haven't had intercourse. If we had, I would have told you."

"Oh, I'm not too sure about that." Charlotte chuckled wistfully, "I remember when I was your age. There were plenty of things I didn't tell _my_ mum."

"Mother!" Hermione cried out uncomfortably, "I don't need to know that."

"Sweetheart, I'm only jesting."

"Still, I recognize you and dad are still very much in love, but as your child, I don't need to know the exact details of your relationship!"

"Hermione, I'm only treating you like a young woman. I vividly recall a little girl around six who demanded to be treated like an adult."

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned. Next to her, her mother laughed at the plight that she suffered. However, despite the teasing her mother gave her, Hermione couldn't help but smile at the displays of affection her mother showered her as of late. Though they had their disagreements and have conflicting tastes in terms of interest, there was no doubt that they had grown much closer since Hermione had decided to stay over and commit to deepening her relationship with her parents. She missed the lighthearted nature of her mother. Charlotte Granger allowed Hermione to pursue whatever fancied her, only stopping her to give her advice or information of what may come. Hermione remembered how – in the previous continuity – she misconstrued her mother's parenting methods. She wanted Hermione to grow as her own person and not be coddled or held back. Her mother raised her to be independent and be able to rely on herself.

The car slowed to a moderate speed as they entered Little Whinging. The distaste for the immaculate cleanliness of the neighborhood houses was openly expressed on Charlotte's face. Hermione had to agree with her mother's sentiment, she didn't like the monotony of the exterior of the homes as well. While her mother drove, Hermione paid careful attention to the street signs, waiting for the words 'Privet Drive' to pop up.

"Is that it? The next left over?" Charlotte asked unsure.

Hermione nodded her head, "Yeah, that's Privet Drive. Harry is at Number Four."

The car turned into the road. They drove further into the street, stopping shortly at Number Four at the curb. The fairly mundane neighborhood was still quiet, as if it had yet to be awoken for the day. Charlotte glanced at Hermione worried, checking the time, "Do you suppose we're too early?"

The time traveler glanced at the digital clock; it was 8:39. Considering what Harry told her about his daily routine, he would be up by eight in the morning out of habit. Meanwhile Dudley wouldn't be up until ten or eleven. Harry's aunt, Petunia, would be up at around the same time as Harry, but his uncle, Vernon, wouldn't grumble out of bed by nine. Hermione sighed thankfully, thank goodness she didn't have to deal with the two bloated whales. Turning back to her mother, Hermoine answered, "No, we arrived just on time."

"Well, if you're sure. Go ahead and get Harry. I'll keep the car running. Does Harry know to be ready?"

"Yeah, he promised to pack up last night." Hermione stepped out of the car and began marching up to the front door of Number Four Privet Drive. She rang the doorbell once and waited patiently for someone to answer. Hermione hoped that it would be Harry at the door. However, no such luck. Instead of her best friend, she was met with none other than Petunia Dursley, looking as obnoxious and horse-like as always.

Petunia frowned, "What is it this time? Off to fornicate with that brat again?"

It was no secret to Hermione to Petunia cared little for her. She often looked at her with disdain whenever she visited and would cast suspicious glances whenever she caught her leaving Harry's room. Hermione knew of the gossipy slurs that were going around Harry's neighborhood about herself and Harry. Though false, Harry was known by many of the other residents of Little Whinging as a criminal teenage delinquent. In a similar aspect, she was cast as Harry's promiscuous lover. Ironically, it was no different than how the two of them were treated during their Fourth and Fifth Years. Funny, that.

"Honestly, have you forgotten?" Hermione rolled her eyes, "Today is the day Harry gets to leave your horrid home."

"Why I never!" Petunia harrumphed, but said nothing else to Hermione. She turned to face the stairs and yelled loudly, "Potter! Get down here! Your girlfriend is here to pick you up!"

A few moments later, Harry appeared at the top of the steps with his trunk being held by one arm over his shoulder – she assumed he had cast a charm to make it lighter – and Hedwig's empty birdcage on the other. Their eyes met as he hurriedly descended the stairs; they were shining with insurmountable joy and excitement. He appeared well-groomed surprisingly. Instead of the hand-me-downs he typically wore, Harry had worn his uniform's white dress shirt and dark trousers. His shoes were not the raggedy sneakers inherited from Dudley but rather the formal ones worn for special events. Despite his hair's forever tussled appearance, it looked more well-groomed and stylish.

"Hermione! Hi! Sorry, I haven't shaven yet." He first told her as he finally reached the door. Petunia turned away and walked back to the kitchen, not at all interested with the conversation. Now that Harry mentioned it, Hermione noticed that her best friend had a small shadow around his lower face. She couldn't blame him, he was soon-to-be sixteen.

"I don't mind, why do you think you need to?" Hermione asked casually, curious herself about Harry's sudden interest in how he appeared to others aesthetically.

Harry turned slightly red as he admitted bashfully, "Well, this will be the first time I'll meet your parents right? I want to leave a good impression on them y'know? I normally try to be smooth and all, but I haven't the time the last few days. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were running me ragged since they knew I was going to leave soon."

Ignoring his relatives' behavior, Hermione smiled at his honest answer. Her heart fluttered at the sincere effort Harry had tried to make to impress her parents. True, Harry's looks were far from perfect, but his entire attire certainly suited him. His kind eyes and warm smile was one of his most attractive features and seeing him looking so energetic would be enough to leave a favorable impression on her parents. Though, Hermione decided, Harry deserved a reward for his efforts. She leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, "You look dashing, Harry. I'm sure my parents will love you."

Harry's smile grew bigger which in turn made Hermione smile too. She led him to the car, the trunk already unlocked to store Harry's belongings. Behind them, Petunia had closed the door and neither of them parted with saying a word to one another. It was just how things were done. As Hermione helped load Harry's chest and birdcage into the back, a question formed in her head to Hedwig's whereabouts, "Harry, where's Hedwig?"

"She should be off to Romania. Errol finally arrived with a letter and I-" He stopped and his eyes grew wide, "Shite!"

"Language, Harry." Hermione inserted passively. Though she still disapproved of cursing, she wasn't as fervent of reprimanding those who did, "What's wrong?"

Harry ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, "Ron wrote a letter addressed to both of us. I was so excited that I immediately wrote my reply and sent it off. I've forgotten that you may have wanted to send a reply back."

"Oh is that it?" Hermione asked plainly, "I don't mind really. We have all summer to write to Ron. I'm more worried for Hedwig and Errol though; they're the ones who are going to be flying to and fro."

"Yeah, Errol looked almost dead when he arrived. He had a letter to the twins and he left before I could tie on to my letter. No worries about Hedwig though, she's been dying to do a long flight since we arrived at the Dursleys."

"Knowing her, she could have went from Britain to Antarctica and still be fine."

"She's quite the prideful owl isn't she?"

"Well she isn't the Queen of the Owlery for nothing."

The pair shared a chuckle before they closed the trunk of the car. Instead of the passenger seat, Hermione opted to sitting with Harry in the back. She entered first, followed by Harry who glanced at the Granger matriarch shyly. From the rear-view window, Charlotte could be seen flashing a welcoming smile to Harry. When the two of them finally settled into their seats, Charlotte introduced herself, "Well, well, if it isn't Harry Potter. I'm Charlotte Granger, Hermione's mum. Ever since she was twelve I've heard nothing but you in her letters. It's finally nice to meet the very boy who she's smitten with."

"Mum!" Hermione cried out embarrassed.

"Oh, hush. I've been dying to do this since you were a little girl. My mother did this and her mother before her did it. I must follow the family tradition!"

Hermione groaned her displeasure which elicited laughs from Harry and Charlotte. Harry turned to Charlotte and replied, "It's great to meet you too Mrs. Granger. Thanks for letting me stay over the summer."

"Nonsense, it's our pleasure. Also none of this Mrs. Granger business, feel free to call me Charlotte. You will be welcomed in our home, Harry."

"Oh, before I forget." Harry reached into his pockets and removed a folded piece of paper. He handed it over to Hermione, "It's the letter from Ron."

Hermione took the letter and began reading the wrinkled parchment. In the background, she listened to her mother and Harry conversing about school. She noticed that Harry was perceptive enough to not reveal any of their adventures, and for that, Hermione was thankful. She hadn't gotten around to telling her parents what occurred at Hogwarts in the last few years. She shifted her focus back onto the letter and continued reading:

_Dear Harry and Hermione,_

_First off, I wanted to write letters to the both of you separately, but I figured Errol wouldn't appreciate traveling the extra distance so I decided to just address to the both of you._

_Okay, for this first part, this is for Harry only. Harry, don't forget to remind Hermione not to read this part okay? This is strictly a talk between mates!_

Hermione shook her head in amusement. Although a part of her knew she should respect Ron's wishes, a more mischievous side to her couldn't resist continuing on.

_Harry, how's life at the Dursleys? I'm pretty sure you're bored, so let me brighten up your day for a few minutes about something wicked that happened! I've been helping Charlie with the dragons. I'm not doing anything too dangerous though. I'm basically just the guy who makes sure everyone is alright while everyone else tends to the dragons. If things get violent, I have to go run off and get more help. Besides, it's the only job mum will let me do. Anyway, the thing that happened was that one day after Charlie got off work, he took me to the pub where he and his friends go to. You will never believe who I met there! The Chudley Cannons Seeker, Galvin Gudgeon, was there! It turns out that one of Charlie's coworkers was his brother! Would you believe my luck? Anyway, believe it or not, that was not the most awesome thing that happened. It also turned out that Galvin has a sister named Gladys who was around our age. We hit it off right away and we've been talking nonstop since we met! Can you believe it? Don't tell Hermione okay? She would probably get angry or something. Girls are weird like that._

Hermione held back a snort as she read over the paragraph again. Perhaps at another time she would have been jealous, but the past was the past. Instead, she felt a little elation for her red-haired friend. At least it wasn't Lavender. The two of them as a couple was sickening to watch even if she hadn't been interested in Ron. Then again, Ron was a naïve teenager. He could have very well fallen for another girl that showed the slightest hint of interest. Well, whatever the case, good for him. Though, considering her own experience with Viktor, a relationship based solely on writing letters to one another would be doomed to fail at their age. That was why she never pursued a romance with the Bulgarian seeker. She continued reading.

_Anyway, that's enough news about that. Let Hermione read this now. I think this family vacation is a little more than that. I noticed that dad often wanders off by himself and doesn't return for hours. Mum doesn't seem to mind and Charlie and Ginny doesn't seem to notice. But I can't help but think we're actually in Romania for some Order business. Did Dumbledore tell you anything Harry? Or is there something happening over there? I'm a little worried. You-Know-Who is still around and all even if Dumbledore sent him running at the Ministry. _

Arthur was disappearing? That was peculiar. For what reason would Dumbledore have the Weasleys go to Romania? There were no Horcruxes there or anything of value to be had at that location. Perhaps it was to ensure the safety of the youngest Weasley kids? It wasn't a far off conclusion. No one but a select few knew where they are. They were in a secure area where the Dragon Tamers are constantly on their guard from rampant dragons or poachers. Though it wasn't the safest place to be all things considered, it was still a pretty good location to hide in. That only left the question as to what Dumbledore's plans were. That man had known what she had done to Mr. Borgin and his cryptic words from yesterday still resonated deep within her. For some reason, he had done nothing but discourage her from doing anything. If he had been Amelia Bones or Rufus Scrimgeour, Hermione knew she would have been arrested. It disturbed her greatly.

"Something wrong Hermione?" Harry asked her tentatively. Broken free from her thoughts, Hermione turned and stared blankly at Harry for a few moments. Frowning, Harry called to her again, "Hermione?"

"Sorry, it's nothing. Just thinking is all." Hermione quickly reassured him, putting away the letter into her pocket to finish reading later. She immediately changed the subject, "So Ron has a lovely lady by his side now?"

"Well, knowing Ron, they're probably just talking. Not to talk bad about him, but I think he's even worse than I am when it comes to girls."

"Still, I believe I was right. Remember a few days ago?" Hermione asked him, recalling their conversation before she had talked to Dudley about his parents. She had suggested that Ron had found himself a girl during his stay in Romania. It was a suggestion that Harry had shot down. Hermione grinned smugly at her raven haired friend, "If you were a betting man, you would have lost."

"Charlotte, your daughter is a wicked girl who plans to steal my entire fortune." Harry shot back, flashing the same grin that she was showing him.

Charlotte gasped, "Hermione is that true? I thought I raised you better than that. To think, my daughter is a gold digger!"

"Mother!"

"Serves you right, Hermione." Harry added coyly.

She glared fiercely at Harry before elbowing him at his side, "You're such a prat, Harry."

"But I'm a lovely prat?"

"Honestly, where in the world did you get this stunning boldness from? You're worse than Malfoy!"

"We've been owling each other. I wanted to know the secrets to his arrogance."

Before a lighthearted fight ensued between the two friends, Charlotte clicked her tongue for their attention. The two teens stopped in mid-action, their hands outstretched as the two of them had been about to have the tickle war of the age. Charlotte smiled serenely at the scene, expressing her content all over her face, "Now that's all well and good, but a ceasefire must be made for now. We are officially home!"

The car came to a stop once they reached a modest-looking house with plentiful trees and bushes on the front lawn trimmed into various designs. The house itself didn't look very large from the outside; it had a ground floor, first floor, and an attic. It was lined with bricks painted over brown. The windows and doors were clear white, complementing the dark tone of the overall structure. The neighborhood they were in all had houses of several different designs. There were some kids already playing outside while the adults were tending to their lawn. A couple even went as far as to wave at them. It was a far cry from the monotony of Little Whinging. Despite Little Whinging's attempt of appearing to be _normal_ as much as possible, it was the neighborhood that the Grangers resided in that had true normalcy. It was comfortable and welcoming; who could ask for anything more?

"Wow, your house is amazing." Harry said in awe.

Hermione stared at her home, not seeing what was so special about it. However, she could understand why Harry felt the way he did. His former home – if you could call it a home – was a world where he was unwanted and unloved. And though she would never say it out loud, Hermione had her suspicions that Harry felt smothered when at the Burrow. Being here, with her, and in a place where he could forget about magic and Voldemort, it was simply heaven for Harry Potter.

Hermione got out of the car and began unloading Harry's belongings with his help. Taking Hedwig's birdcage, Hermione shouted after her mother who was making her way up the path to the front door, "Mum! Is Harry staying in the guest room?"

Charlotte turned the key and opened the door. Without looking behind her, she answered, "No, Harry gets the attic!"

Hermione frowned instantaneously. Noticing Hermione's sudden mood shift, Harry asked, "Is the attic bad?"

"No." Hermione said wryly, "You're just so lucky."

"Wait, what?"

The witch smirked at the Boy Who Lived, "You'll see. Come on, I'll show you."

Quickly, the two took Harry's belongings and speedily entered the house. Hermione bypassed the tour she had planned to give him in favor of showing Harry the attic. They walked up the staircase onto the first floor where she ignored her room for the door next to it. Opening it revealed another staircase which she swiftly ascended with excitement. At the end of the steps was another door and Hermione immediately stepped through it after opening. Harry frantically tried to keep up with her pace, a little shocked that Hermione showed this much excitement in something other than books or magic. However, when Harry entered the attic, his expression decorated on his face showed why Hermione was eager to enter.

The attic was transformed into fully livable loft. Sprawled throughout the room were various knickknacks from eras long since passed. At one end of the room was a large couch with an entire home theater facing it. Alongside it were various musical CDs of bands pertaining to rock and roll. In the corner next to the home theater was two amps with an electric guitar and bass stood on its stand waiting for someone to pick up its use. A large Union Jack flag was hung over one wall alongside posters of the very same bands that comprised the CD list. At another corner was a mini bar complete with unopened bottles of alcoholic beverages. Then, at the far end of the room was another couch, but this time it was converted into a spring-loaded bed.

"Wicked." Harry said, borrowing Ron's most well-known phrases.

"My dad started this up as a side project when he first bought the house with mum," Hermione began explaining, "Over the years, he converted the attic into what you see today. It wasn't finished until I was nine, and it was mean to entertain his old friends when they came to visit. I think he expected me to use it when I had my own friends over but..."

"You went to Hogwarts and instead of us visiting you, you had to visit us." Harry finished mournfully. He faced Hermione, a sad frown marring his once jovial features, "Hermione, I'm sorry Ron and I never thought to..."

"No, it's not your fault." Hermione said truthfully, "It never occurred to me that I should have invited you guys over also. I'm more to blame than anyone."

Nothing else was said. Hermione thought it had more to do with Harry not knowing what to say. To her surprise instead, Harry placed his trunk on the floor and enveloped her in a gentle hug. Hermione looked up at Harry to find him staring at her with the softest eyes she had ever seen at him. It were the eyes of a loving and caring man who would go to any lengths to care for the ones he loved. Dropping the birdcage onto the ground, Hermione immersed herself in the embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist and placing her head against his chest.

_Do not forget yourself lest you become consumed by your own darkness._

_Hermione, don't ever be afraid of pain and hardship. In the end, it could be worth it. Do what is right, not easy._

Perhaps, she had been going about everything all wrong. Perhaps she wasn't meant to preemptively strike at the Death Eaters. Perhaps she did not need to perpetuate the cycle of death and destruction by causing them herself. Standing there in Harry's arms felt more right than what she had done in the past few weeks. What they both needed were each other. She had been so obsessed with the Horcruxes, with the power that the darkness held, and the ruthlessness one had to show to their enemies that she had almost forgotten what she was fighting for. She was fighting for the future of the magical world. She was fighting for the safety of all those that inhabited it. She was fighting for the students and teachers at Hogwarts. She was fighting for her friends and their family. She was fighting for her parents and their freedom to live out their lives.

But most of all, she was fighting for Harry and the kind and loving emerald eyes that had yet to be tarnished by death and fate.

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: There was going to be more, but I thought it was good to cut off there. I enjoyed writing it. It was a whole lot of fun and I hope you like this story as well to continue reading it! Feel free to send in your thoughts and feelings; they always help improve my level of writing.


	15. Chapter XV

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: At last, the latest chapter of "From the End to the Start". This chapter turned out to be much longer than I expected it to be, but I guess it can't be helped now can it? Overall, I was pretty proud of this chapter. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing.

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter XV**

The brick walls leading to Diagon Alley parted to reveal the riveting morning rush of the magical shopping district. Harry and Hermione stepped through the entrance, the doorway behind them rearranging itself back into the wall it had once been.

Hermione immediately noted the crowd of shoppers moving to and fro shops. It was a stark contrast from when she had visited a few weeks before. However, even with the business of the alley apparent for all to see, it was obvious that the population of consumers had plummeted since the summer she had first visited. Hermione glanced sideways, smiling as Harry fidgeted in his disguise. Harry's outfit was simple but effective in hiding his identity. He was using one of her father's hats to cover the scar on his forehead and had removed his glasses that had become one of his iconic traits.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Are you sure you don't want to put on your glasses?" She pulled his round spectacles from her pocket.

Harry shook his head. "I'll be fine, Hermione. Stop worrying." He smiled at her, brushing his hand over hers.

"Alright." Hermione sighed. "Although, I guess it's good that Tom didn't recognize you. It only shows how easy it was to hide your identity."

"I hope your father didn't mind me taking his hat."

"He has plenty of them at home! He won't notice one of them being missing."

"Yeah, I know, but I don't want to give your father any more reason for him to dislike me."

Hermione internally shook her head at her father's behavior towards Harry. While her mother took quite a shine to her best friend, the same cannot be said with her father. He wasn't antagonistic or hostile towards Harry, but since Harry's arrival at her home a few days ago, he was particularly frosty over Harry's stay. It certainly didn't help matters that she had told him that she and Harry were in a relationship. Honestly, did he really believe that she was going to jump into a bed with Harry whenever he wasn't looking?

"Don't worry about him, Harry. He'll come around." Hermione reassured him. "He's just being an overprotective dad. How would you feel if some bloke showed up and was dating your daughter?"

Harry frowned. "True."

"So, just let him get to know you and things will be fine. You've only been living with us for a few days." Hermione took Harry's hand and began leading him up the street. "Where to first, Harry? Stop by Gringotts or visit the twins' new shop?"

At the mention of the Weasley twins, Harry's smile brightened considerably. Ever since the letter from Dumbledore arrived last night concerning what Sirius left behind for Harry, his mood had gotten considerably glummer. Fortunately, Hermione knew that all Harry needed to come out of his stupor was a trip to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Granted, while she would never condone pranks, Hermione appreciated the humor that the twins and their products provided. Like Harry had told the twins at the end of Fourth Year, "We all need a laugh..."

"Let's visit the twins' shop." Harry stated excitedly. "I didn't even know they were open yet!"

Remembering where the premises of the joke shop was, Hermione led the way. In the excitement, Harry didn't question how she knew where it was. Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to lie to Harry even if her life depended on it. She didn't know when she would reveal her status as a time traveler. It was a topic that plagued her mind since she began visiting Harry at the Dursleys. How was she going to tell Harry that a lot of people that he knew and cared about died less than two years from now? How the world she came from was filled with nothing but despair and utter hopelessness? How she had watched Harry's corpse be ridiculed by his greatest foe and then she, herself, later falling at the hands of the same person who killed his godfather?

It was not something that could easily flow into conversation.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was a sight to behold. She had nearly forgotten how charming Fred and George made the exterior of the building be. A replica of one of the twins' heads atop of the front door holding out a top hat was surely eye-catching and would no doubt attract several of the store's target customers. The window display showcased several colorful and interesting items that had very unique names. The sign magically charmed to change advertise the shop's products in a humorous fashion said:

"WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO?

YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT U-NO-POO

THE CONSTIPATION SENSATION THAT'S GRIPPING THE NATION!"

Even Hermione had to chuckle at that. Next to her, Harry was trying his best to stifle his laughter but was failing miserably. He was laughing merrily at the display and at the subtle mockery of Lord Voldemort. A light feeling gripped her heart as she watched Harry's mood once again return to the jovial state he had taken up the last few days. From where she stood, all Hermione could see was a lighthearted teenager.

"Wow, I can't believe Fred and George already managed all this." Harry commented, staring in awe at the store's front.

"Come on, Harry. Let's go in before things get too crowded." Hermione mentioned as she pointed to the huge arrival of children arriving at the soon-to-be-famous joke shop.

Harry and Hermione trudged through the groups of kids, entering the store. The interior was much bigger than what the outside suggested as there were rows upon rows of items for sale in various sections. There were stairs that led to higher levels of the shop. In the center of the store was a metallic platform that seemed to ascend the three floors the shop had. Two familiar set of twins stood on top of the platform, garbed in two fine suits that was a combination of wizarding and muggle fashion.

"Fine folks of our humble shop, may we have your attention!" One twin shouted.

The shop stilled and quieted.

"Well, that got their attention didn't it, Fred?" George mentioned offhandedly.

"Strange, I usually have to cause an explosion to get this much attention." Fred replied.

"I believe it's because of your handsome looks, brother of mine."

"Is it? Well, it can't be helped. I am the finer looking one of the two of us."

Their back-and-forth banter caused chuckles to be emitted in the crowd.

"Now, enough bragging, Fred. We have to show off the product."

"You have the product?"

"Of course I do."

"You told me you didn't."

"Well, I was being sarcastic when I said I didn't."

"Oh, you're quite the liar aren't you?"

The twins grinned. George pulled out a rocket-shaped firework from his sleeve. Fred turned to him, sporting a wicked smile. With a flick of his wrist, George threw the single piece of firework into the air. Next to him, Fred raised his wand and shot a red bolt of energy which Hermione identified as a stunning charm. The spell collided with the mid-air rocket which prompted it to explode in a cacophony of lights and sound. The resulting blast generated cause the rocket to fly madly around the air, coming close but never hitting any of the audience. As it circled above the twins, the rocket suddenly transformed into a fireworks-display of a dragon. The dragon seemed to have come to life as it suddenly roared with pride. It circled around the ground floor of the shop before it spiraled upwards towards the ceiling. It collided with the ceiling, showering the inhabitants of the building with a brilliant rainbow display of dim sprites.

The crowd cheered.

"That there was just one firework of a complete set of _Weasleys'__Wildfire__Whiz-bangs_! Imagine what you can do if you have ten times the amount!"

"Now, George, don't you think that it's dangerous?"

"Dangerous? That's a load of codswallop! It's charmed to be completely harmless!"

"You don't say, George?"

"Will I ever lie to you, Fred?"

"I think we already established that you did before."

"Ah, but I will not lie to you about this!"

"Then how much does it cost?"

"Oh, how about nine Sickles and twenty-four Knuts?"

"Too expensive for my taste!"

"I can't have that. How about..."

"...four Sickles and twelve Knuts?"

"Fifty-percent off, Fred!"

"Of course! Just for today though!"

At the sudden mention of the costs, the crowd of children instantly swarmed towards the business owners or the shelves in order to get their hands on a pair of _Weasleys'__Wildfire__Whiz-bangs_. Hermione was more than familiar with the product. It was the same fireworks the twins used before they left Hogwarts. Needless to say, it certainly scared Umbridge and Malfoy. They were wonderful fireworks.

"Absolutely brilliant!" Harry said next to her, grinning from ear to ear. His glasses was back on, having asked for it when the twins began their announcement. "Wasn't that the fireworks they used on Umbridge?"

"It was!" Hermione confirmed. "Come on, Harry, let's go greet the twins."

Hermione pulled Harry into the crowd of kids, making their way towards Fred and George. Inside, Hermione was bursting with actual excitement. The entire time, her eyes had been fixated on either the fireworks itself and Fred. The last time she saw him, he was nothing more than a corpse. His twin, George, had been a despondent wreck. In fact, the entire Weasley clan were mourning over the loss of Fred. Seeing him alive again, after everything she went through, did nothing but motivated her further in her goal to change the outcome of the future. It was painfully poignant watching Fred joke and jest again.

As they edged closer to the identical pair, Hermione witnessed Fred nudging George, pointing them out from the crowd. They quickly excused themselves from the scrambling group of kids and pulled themselves off from the platform. Fred – or was it George? – nudged his head towards the back room and began walking towards it. Getting the message, Harry and Hermione followed after them.

Harry passed through the threshold first and was immediately assaulted by Fred and George. Fred grabbed hold of Harry around the neck and pulled off his hat as George stood close and ruffled his hair into more of a mess than usual.

"You think a simple hat is a good disguise, Harry? Come now, you're not much of a prankster if you think you could slip by unnoticed by the two of us." Fred stated, letting Harry go from his grip.

"It's great to see you, Harry! Fred and I were wondering when our little investor was going to turn up. Although, you didn't come alone I see." George pointed over at Hermione, who stood back to watch the show.

Fred slipped in front of Hermione, leaning over forward. "I don't believe we've met, miss. Are you by any chance single or are you with Potter over there? I can tell you that the lad is a complete bore. Sure, he may have a madman or two after him, but honestly, he doesn't do much else other than be the greatest Seeker Hogwarts ever had and being the so-called Chosen One."

Hermione knitted her eyebrows together, staring puzzled at Fred. "Are you – are you flirting with me?"

Fred smirked. "Call it what you want, but I wouldn't mind if you fancy me taking you to lunch later."

Hermione turned her head to Harry, a question in her eyes. Harry stared back, forming a sly grin on his lips. Hermione surmised that he realized what was happening and glared at him briefly. The implications of Fred's actions soon dawned on George as he immediately placed his hand over his mouth to cover the barking laughter that threatened to spill. Hermione turned back to Fred patiently waiting for her response. She smiled at him, albeit a bit strained.

"Fred, it's me." Hermione slowly said. "Hermione."

Fred's face instantaneously blanched. His eyes became with shock. His mouth dropped in surprise. He began babbling incoherently and turned back to face Harry and George. The two onlookers were laughing, unable to contain it any longer. Hermione rolled her eyes and patted Fred on the back.

"It's alright, Fred. While I find you sweet, you're not exactly my type." Hermione chuckled, deciding to throw her hat into the ring. "Though, I am flattered."

"You guys are gits, you know that?" Fred said to Harry and George.

"Sorry, brother of mine, I can't help it. It was just too funny." George explained.

Harry grinned. "I have to say, if it was anyone else flirting with my girlfriend, I would have hexed them!"

"Girlfriend?" Fred and George incredulously exclaimed.

Harry blushed lightly and moved back to Hermione's side, taking her hand into his. "For lack of a better term, Hermione and I found that we were developing feelings for one another and we thought to try it out."

Hermione reached up and pecked Harry on the cheek. "Sorry, Fred, I'm with Harry."

Fred and George turned to one another and eyed one another inquisitively. Suddenly, Fred sighed and frowned as George smugly grinned. Fred reached into his pockets and took out five galleons, placing it on George's open palm. The two turned back to the couple as George explained, "I knew it was a matter of the time before the two of you got together. It was just a matter of 'when'. I said summer before your Sixth Year and Fred said during your Sixth Year."

"Couldn't you have held off until then? It's hard enough I hardly win any bets against this prat!"

"I have the vision, Fred. Or at least, that's what Professor Trelawney said."

"Oh, she's barking mad. Not going to give her any credit."

"Anyway, congratulations you two. I think you make a fine pair." George mentioned warmly. "Though, what are you two doing out here in Diagon Alley? I don't think the book list came out yet."

"Harry and I are going to visit Gringotts to collect his inheritance from Sirius." Hermione expounded. "Dumbledore sent a mail about it last night."

The atmosphere of the room swiftly shifted into a somber state as soon as Sirius was mentioned. She felt Harry's hand tighten his hold on her, seeking her comfort. Hermione recalled Harry's flippant attitude the previous night. He ranted how he would rather throw away everything Sirius left for him so he would not be reminded of his death. She had thought that Harry was slowly getting used to Sirius's death, but she could not blame him if he still succumbed to his grief. On some nights, she still felt the bitter hate that she had for Bellatrix Lestrange and remembered how she tortured then later killed her.

Fortunately, she had come to realize her motive for coming back wasn't revenge, but something grander. That was enough to keep the darkness abate.

"That's rather odd." Fred commented. "Usually it's the Ministry that handles wills and inheritances."

"Sirius was still a fugitive, remember? It's only natural that he would rather trust the goblins more than Fudge and his administration."

"Why is it odd?" Hermione asked. She remembered how Dumbledore's will was carried out by the magical government and how she, Harry, and Ron were given the items by Scrimgeour. She had never thought about that there were differences when it came to handling such things.

"Well, like I said, it's usually the Ministry that handles wills and inheritances. They take possession of the items in question and then deliver it to the recipients who are to inherit. Usually, the process is that a magical citizen would file their will with the Ministry and it would be handled immediately upon their death. However, there are certain restrictions when it came to it. You can't pass down an item that is considered illegal by the Ministry.

"The alternative is to file a will with Gringotts. They don't have restrictions over what items can be passed down and are widely considered safe and secure. Unfortunately, they have a fee for this service and not many people can afford it. From what Bill told me, only rich, pureblood families are able to do this. Since Sirius was a Black, I'm pretty sure he still had some money to pay for the service. Then again, it was either pay the fee or have his stuff seized by the Ministry."

"I never heard of this before." Harry mentioned at the revelation.

"All that inheritance stuff isn't exactly common knowledge." George chuckled. "Fred and I only know because dad works for the Ministry and Bill works for Gringotts. We had to know some things if we wanted to run our own shop, after all."

Hermione nodded, grateful for the new information. She was always thankful to acquire new knowledge. It also made sense. She lifted her arm to check the small watch she wore and noticed it was close to noon. Hermione tugged at Harry's sleeve and said, "Harry, we should be heading over to Gringotts soon."

"Oh, that's right." Harry frowned. "Sorry guys, but I guess we have to cut this visit short."

"It's fine, Harry. We have to get back to tending the shop. We've been practically busy since we started this place and we can't have Verity – the cashier, by the way – out on the floor for too long before she's overloaded." Fred clasped his hand on Harry's shoulder.

George glanced at Hermione and smirked. "I have to say, Hermione. What did you do to your hair? I always thought you were becoming a very pretty girl, but you're just amazing."

Hermione faintly blushed, not used to being complimented often on her appearance. "Thanks. My mother decided to give me a makeover and helped straighten out my hair. It's not much, but I don't think I'm _that_ beautiful."

"Don't say that, with the way Harry looks at you, he thinks you're more than beautiful. Come Hogwarts, you would probably be catching the eye of many of the boys there."

"I don't know about that, but it's good to see you, George." Hermione leaned over and gave him a hug.

"Oi, don't I get one from the pretty lady?" Fred asked.

Hermione faced Fred, a mischievous thought overtaking her. She wrapped her arms around him and then gave him a chaste peck on the lips. Fred stumbled back, surprised by Hermione's audacity. Before he could respond, Hermione took Harry's hand and made their farewells.

"What was that?" Harry asked her once they stepped outside into Diagon Alley.

Hermione raised her eyebrow inquisitively. "Are you jealous?"

Harry shook his head. "Of course not! It's just, well, it just seemed out-of-character of you is all."

"I suppose it was." Hermione shrugged. "I just thought it would be funny. I promise I won't do it anymore if you admit you're jealous."

Harry gazed at her quietly and then ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay, I felt a smidgen of jealousy."

Hermione laughed lightly at Harry's admission. She reached over and gave him a much more passionate kiss than what was considered appropriate in a public setting. Once she was finished, Hermione placed Harry's hat over his head and grinned saucily. "For your lips only. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. Now let's head over to Gringotts."

In truth, Hermione couldn't help but kiss Fred. There was something entirely enticing seeing him talk animatedly to her and complimenting her by being flirtatious. If she was honest with herself, Hermione knew that she once had a crush on the older prankster when she was younger. She wasn't sure if it was either her Second Year or Third Year, but she knew she developed a small affection for him. Fred was alive again and if she could help it, she would make sure that it stayed that way. However, there was always that tiny doubt in the back of her mind that told her that he could die again. Why not take the chance to fulfill a girlhood fantasy – even if it had lasted for a few days only?

It was not long before they arrived at Gringotts as it was only further up the street. As Hermione stared at the entrance of the majestic bank, she briefly imagined herself back when she had broken into the supposedly high-security place. She shuddered when thinking back on the dragon that guarded the lower-level vaults. It was not an adventure she would want to do again. Hermione briefly wondered if it was possible to convince the goblins to take a side against Voldemort and the Death Eaters, but considering their stance in the previous timeline, that was unlikely to happen.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked upon her hesitance to go inside.

"It's nothing." Hermione lied and followed after him.

In truth, Hermione didn't know what stance she should take against the goblins. Griphook was surely the vilest cretin she had the displeasure of associating with. His betrayal and his deplorable enjoyment of watching the suffer of others did not portray his race in a positive light. While it was certainly distasteful that there was a prejudice against the goblins, it was certainly not without justification. Considering the ferocity and tenacity goblins presented in their rebellions, she couldn't blame if wizards and witches were wary of modern day goblins. It didn't help that the goblins themselves didn't seem to care to mollify their own mistrust for humans.

While she would always be an advocate against the injustice that wizards and witches perpetrated on other sentient magical creatures, Hermione wasn't foolish enough to believe that all of them were innocent in their struggle. As far as she knew, while she would trust the goblins with her money, Hermione wasn't too sure if she could count them as trustworthy allies in the war that was to come. If that were to ever happen in the future, relations between wizards and goblins had to be changed. It was something that could not possibly be done within a year.

Harry and Hermione strolled through Gringotts hand in hand. Hermione took note of the number of Gringotts out on the floor, working away on their calculations. As they continued further into the building, the two of them arrived at a large open entrance that led into the Main Hall.

"Who do you suppose we talk to, Hermione?" Harry asked once they passed through the large doors guarded by goblin guards. The hall was entirely filled with more goblin workers, toiling away at their desks or offering their services to other witches and wizards that were present.

"The Head Goblin of course." Hermione pointed out, nudging Harry towards the uplifted desk at the further end of the Main Hall.

They continued walking further down until they stop before the Gringotts Head Goblin. He was in the process of dipping his quill into ink and writing on a large tome laid out before him. Upon their arrival, the Head Goblin stopped his actions and peered down from his high desk. In a bored drawl, he asked them, "Welcome to Gringotts. How may I be of service?"

"We're here about an inheritance. My friend here, Harry Potter," Hermione removed a letter from her pocket and unfolded it. "Inherited Vault 711."

"Ah yes, I do recall that." The Head Goblin confirmed. "Does Mr. Potter have the key?"

Harry turned to Hermione worriedly. She smiled at him reassuringly and told the goblin, "No. We do not."

"Good that you didn't. One should not have the key yet." Though it was faint, Hermione could hear a low chuckle underneath the goblin's breath. She wondered if what the Head Goblin said was some attempt at goblin humor. If so, then Hermione certainly didn't understand it.

The Head Goblin began to rummage whatever it was that was below his desk. Harry and Hermione could not see whatever it was he was doing. Frankly, Hermione was very much curious what was hidden inside the Head Goblin's desk, but dared not vocalize it in fear of some inane response. Half a minute later, the Head Goblin produced a Vault Key and extended it to Harry. However, before Harry could reach out to grab it, the Head Goblin pulled away and said, "Now, Mr. Potter, before I hand you this key, it means that the inheritance transaction would be fulfilled. In doing so, Gringotts would be taking a portion of the gold in the vault as a means of payment. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded and began to grab it. However, Hermione stopped him, grabbing his risk before he took the key. "Harry, wait." He stared at her, puzzled. Hermione turned to the Head Goblin and asked, "What are you taking?"

"How astute of you." The Head Goblin muttered. "Gringotts is only collecting thirty-percent of whatever is inside the vault. If there isn't sufficient enough gold, then we begin taking whatever assets are within. Do you understand?"

"Go on, Harry." Hermione said.

Harry took the key, completing the deal.

"Excellent. Do you wish to visit the vault now and make a withdrawal?"

"What do you think, Hermione?" Harry asked. "I want to see what's inside and maybe take out some spending money. I feel awful for letting your parents pay for me."

"I don't mind. I'm actually curious myself what Sirius left you in the vault."

Harry turned to the Head Goblin and told him, "We'll do it then."

"Very well. Allow me to call in an associate now." The Head Goblin answered.

Whatever the Head Goblin did, the result was almost immediate. A minute later, Bill Weasley walked casually into the scene, garbed in business attire. His long, red hair was not tied back, but instead hung loosely above his shoulders. Following him closely behind was Fleur Delacour. The French witch also wore clothing that was closely resembled Bill's uniform outfit.

"Good, you're here, William. Ah, Miss Delacour, also a pleasure." The Head Goblin greeted. "Please take these two to Vault 711 for a withdrawal."

With that said, the Head Goblin returned to his own business, leaving Bill and Fleur to tend to Harry and Hermione. Almost immediately, Bill and Fleur rushed to Harry – no longer wearing his disguise, greeting him warmly. Unlike Fred and George, Bill recognized who Hermione was.

"Harry, Hermione! It's good to see you two again." Bill greeted.

"'Arry!" Fleur placed an affectionate kiss on Harry's cheek.

"Hey, you two! Wow, I never expected to see you both here." Harry said in response.

"Yeah, I took a desk job to be closer to my family." Bill explained. Although, Hermione wagered that it had more to do with keeping up with the activities for the Order of the Phoenix.

"I took a job to work part-time 'ere for my Eenglish. I 'elp Bill with what I can." At the mention of Bill, the part-veela giggled softly, glancing sideways at the eldest Weasley son.

Hermione smiled at the two, reminiscing the beautiful wedding the two had. After introductions were made between Hermione and Fleur, Harry and Hermione followed after the two workers towards the carts that led to the vaults. Bill took up the position as the main driver, ready to head to their destination.

"I didn't know wizards could control the carts. I thought only goblins could." Hermione commented as she and Harry entered the cart.

"Typically, you can't. You have to be given special access by the goblins. Usually, wizards or witches who have taken a desk job after being a Curse Breaker typically do this in place of the goblins. Of course, not just anyone can considering the goblins' mistrust for us wizards and witches. Since I helped get a lot of gold for the goblins when I was a Curse Breaker, I have a good reputation with them. Only the more successful Curse Breakers can get a desk job that is actually worth staying in Gringotts's employ." Bill disclosed.

Fleur smiled at Bill, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Bill is ze best Curse Breaker Gringotts ever 'ad. Zey were begging Bill to continue but Bill would not 'ave any of eet! Eet is zat ferocity zat I said yes when Bill proposed."

"You're getting married to Fleur, Bill?" Harry asked in awe.

Despite being heavily considered as the most laid-back Weasley, Bill flushed with embarrassment as he nodded enthusiastically. "I wanted to tell my parents first, but they took that vacation up to see Charlie. But yes, I asked Fleur to marry me a month ago. In fact, just a few weeks ago, Fleur and I were in France to tell her parents the news."

"My parents and Gabrielle absolutely adore Bill! I only 'ope that Bill's family is ze same to me."

"Don't worry, Fleur. I'm sure my family would love you."

"The Weasleys are nice people." Harry added. "I'm sure that they'll welcome you to the family."

Hermione nearly scoffed at that notion. Molly and Ginny hadn't been very welcoming to the French witch when she came to stay at the Burrow. Molly, of course, questioned if the relationship was truly genuine. Ginny, on the other hand, was jealous. It was rather cute with the way Ginny reacted to Bill's engagement. Considering all the stories Ginny told her about how Bill treated her kindly when she was little, it was no surprise that she didn't like any girl who caught her favorite brother's affections.

The cart ride began and they were sent spiraling through a series of tunnels at a breakneck pace. Hermione thanked her parents for taking her to amusement parks when she was younger or else she would have lost her breakfast. As they went further down into the vault, Hermione noticed that they passed through a variety of security precautions that she recognized from her break-in to Gringotts. Finally, they came to a stop in front of a large, metallic door guarded by two goblins.

Bill and Fleur stepped out of the cart and greeted the guards, Harry and Hermione following.

"State your names." One of the goblin guards grunted.

"Bill Weasley, Gringotts Employee."

"Fleur Delacour, Gringotts Employee."

"Um, Harry Potter."

"Hermione Granger."

"Do you have the key?" The goblin guard asked.

Harry reached into his pocket and revealed the key. The goblins spoke in Gobbledegook and nodded to one another. The turned their backs on the group of wizards and witches and proceeded to tap on the large, metallic door. Not long after, the large doors began to part, revealing an empty, gigantic hall with a smaller double door at the end of it.

"It looks like this vault has the _Forever__Crawl_ defense." Bill said as he began walking down the seemingly empty hall.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"It's a safety precaution against thieves. If anyone manages to get passed the guards and enter, then they are subjected to an illusion of endlessly walking down this hall. It's goblin magic and it's meant to occupy the thief until reinforcements arrive to take care of him."

The group finally reached the end of the hall. Vault 711 was opened and the party stepped in. What they found was something that neither of them expected. While Hermione knew that the Blacks had been a well-off family, she did not consider that they were unbelievably wealthy. It was filled with vast riches that was far more than what she had seen in the Lestrange vault.

"Wow." All four of them said.

"Now I can see why Dumbledore paid for the fee to keep this vault open." Bill remarked.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked the Gringotts employee.

"Normally, this vault would have been emptied and the contents would be placed into Harry's vault. However, Dumbledore came by the other day and paid using his own money to keep the Black vault open and allow Harry to inherit the vault as well."

Harry stared at Bill curiously. "Why would he do that?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

The subject was dropped and Harry, alongside Hermione, began to explore the contents that Sirius left behind. They sifted through the gigantic piles of gold and treasure with their eyes, both in awe at the quantity of untold riches. However, they soon found one oddity amongst the hoard of money. Resting close to the entrance, a bit hidden between two piles of Galleons, was a motorbike. Harry and Hermione edged closer to the vehicle.

"Why does Sirius have a motorcycle in his vault?" Hermione postulated.

"It's a flying motorbike, Hermione." Harry said breathlessly. He moved closer to the motorcycle and found a note atop of the seat. Harry took it, unfolding the parchment to read its contents.

Hermione stood off to the side, observing Harry. Tears spilled from his eyes, flowing down his cheeks in a small stream. He turned to Hermione and handed her the note Sirius left behind. It read:

_Happy sixteenth birthday, Harry!_

_When I was your age, your dad bought me a nice motorbike that we could ride around in whenever we wanted! I thought that it was only natural that I return the favor. The great thing about this is that it can shrink to fit into your pocket and that it can fly wherever you want it to go! You and I are going to have a fun time on this thing, I can bet you that! Trust me, you think riding on a broom is nice? Wait until you send this up in the air with you!_

_Love, Padfoot_

As Hermione finished the letter, Harry wiped the remnants of the tears he shed.

"Sirius and I were meant to go flying, I guess. Just like how my dad and he used to do when they were teens. It seems Sirius had a lot of things planned for us to do." Harry's voice cracked. "But I guess that won't happen now, would it?"

"You know he loved you." Hermione whispered.

"I know. He wouldn't want me to mourn over his death. He would rather I just keep moving forward. But," Harry sighed. "Let me just have this one moment to grieve what could have been."

"Okay, Harry."

As Harry cried silently over what he lost, Hermione stood by his side, waiting until he was ready to continue moving forward again.

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: I never understood why goblins are often portrayed as invaluable allies or honorable warriors in fanfiction. While I don't mind reading it, I didn't want to fall into that cliché – a good one, by the way. I know a lot of my readers were hoping or expecting that I make Harry into the Duke of Gryffindor or Lord Potter or something like that, but I just didn't want to do that. Instead, I had Harry get richer and also get a ridiculously awesome motorbike.

Also, I think some of my readers might question why Harry is suddenly grieving over Sirius's death when previous chapters showed he was able to move on. Well, to answer that question is that the loss of a loved one is very impacting on a person's life. While Harry understands and accepts Sirius's death and that it wasn't his fault, he would still need some time to be at peace with it. Sometimes it just doesn't hit you very hard until you least expect it.

Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed reading this chapter. I had to scrap several other versions before I was happy with it!


	16. Chapter XVI

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: Well, we have another long chapter for this story. I don't consider 5000-6000 words long, but it is definitely odd in this story when the first couple of chapters were usually 3000-4000 words. However, I guess with everything that happens in the story, it would, of course, gradually become longer as it progresses. What I love about this chapter the most is that I am finally able to show-off Hermione and how amazing she is. Granted, things are never easy for her, but I like to think that I gave her some justice in this chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter XVI**

Harry and Hermione returned to the Granger home a few hours after noon. Harry had decided to take the motorbike Sirius left for him along with some Galleons that he converted into Pounds. When they left Gringotts, Harry confessed that he felt much lighter in spirit. Hermione was proud of him. She knew it was not often that Harry would be willing to visibly breakdown crying. To help him, they revisited Fred and George. The twins immediately cheered Harry up and gave the two of them free products before they left. They then had lunch in the Leaky Cauldron and then left for home in one of the nearby stations.

"You're not going to be riding around that motorbike, are you?" Hermione asked as she closed the front door.

Harry shook his head. "While I could easily break the law like you, I think I would rather wait a bit before I try."

Hermione's cheeks turned red, embarrassed at being reminded of her unlawful actions during the first few weeks of the summer. It couldn't have been helped! She had to visit Harry! Although, she had to admit that she had forgotten that there was a station near Privet Drive. However, if she calculated it correctly, it would have taken a few hours and a few stops before she had arrived. Driving had simply been easier.

The two entered the loft in the attic. Hermione lounged on the couch, taking the remote and turning on the telly. The weather report mentioned sunny skies for the rest of the day. Hermione flipped through random channels, but found nothing interesting to watch. Harry settled on the cushion next to her, the bag from _Weasleys'__Wizard__Wheezes_ on top of his lap as he perused through them.

Hermione turned and eyed the bag warily, knowing full well that _anything_ could be in that bag. "What's inside?"

"Interesting things, that's for sure." Harry laughed. He removed a firework from the bag, revealing a Whiz-bang that the twins had demonstrated earlier to their customers.

"Oh, honestly, did they think you're actually going to use that?" Hermione asked, shaking her head.

"Well, you can never know. Perhaps we could show your parents."

Hermione picked up the bag and began browsing through the objects within. "Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, U-No-Poo, Trick wands, Patented Daydream Charms, Skiving Snackboxes, and who knows what else!" She exclaimed, listing out some of the objects inside. While she admired the craftsmanship of Fred and George, Hermione was only reminded of the amount of trouble they caused when she had been in Hogwarts her Sixth Year.

"A great bag of goodies if I ever saw one." Harry snickered as he retook the bag and stuffed the Whiz-bang back inside.

Hermione would argue, but felt it wouldn't have done much use. Instead, she contented to flipping through the channels on the telly, stopping on a random film that was just starting. Hermione didn't catch the name of it, but from what she could examine, she inferred that it was Doctor Who. Of course, her biggest hint had been the introduction of the TARDIS.

"Oh, I've heard of this! Doctor Who, right?" Harry asked as his eyes were mesmerized by the action in the television movie. "I remembered catching a glimpse of this series back in the Dursleys. Funny, that, I remembered Dudley throwing a tantrum that it was canceled."

"I'm actually surprised you know about Doctor Who." Hermione said, surprised.

Harry grinned. "Of course I have, I would be daft not to know!"

"Well, considering the magical world doesn't have anything like television, it isn't surprising. Did you know there are times when some of the kids in Hogwarts unknowingly make those pop culture references? It's actually quite amusing."

"You know, maybe if we introduced television to the magical community, I think they wouldn't be paying too much attention to me. All of them would be too focused on watching their shows."

"I think the opposite, your popularity would only skyrocket. Can you imagine? They'll have a show about you or rope you into doing some commercials!"

"I would rather be a television star than be the Boy Who Lived." Harry laughed. "I am a handsome bloke, after all."

Hermione lightly punched Harry. "You have a swelled head. While I do think you are rather fanciable, don't forget that you have a crippling problem of being terribly awkward around girls."

"Then why am I not awkward around you?"

"Because," Hermione began haughtily. "I am a _young__ woman_. I am much more mature than those gossiping girls we have at school."

"Can you blame them? We're stuck in a castle for ten months with almost nothing to do. Not everyone is as inclined to reading a book, Hermione."

Hermione sighed. "That may be so, but it couldn't hurt if some of them were more serious with their studies. Besides, studious I may be, I know how to relax and have fun." _Now,__anyways._ Hermione said to herself in an afterthought.

"I still can't believe how laid-back you actually are at home." Harry commented.

"Oh? And are you saying that I am much too uptight elsewhere?" Hermione questioned him, glaring at him comically.

"Well, yes." Harry admitted honestly. "No offense, Hermione, but you can be rather demanding what with your assortment of plans, studying, books, and cleverness."

"I guess I was, wasn't I?" Hermione wistfully asked, looking back at all the times that she had been the bossy know-it-all. It only made it more clear of how incompatible Ron and her were. They were like two opposite elements. He was as flexible as water, readily going with the flow. She was passionate, volatile as fire. There was no doubt if the two of them had formed a romantic relationship, they would have been _steamed_ out – pardon the pun.

"But it's your most amazing trait and the reason why all our friends are so endeared to you!"

"Excellent save, Harry."

"I try, love."

Hermione stared at Harry incredulously. Realizing his slip, Harry's face reddened with embarrassment. A rare awkward moment occurred between the two of them. Both stared at one another, but none had their thoughts under control to actually say anything. In Hermione's mind, she had realized that 'love' was meant as a pet name. However, she couldn't help but ponder that it could have meant as something more. Harry had realized this, it was the reason why he had began blushing.

A few dreadful moments later, Harry opened his mouth to speak. His eyes met with Hermione's and they locked gazes. "Hermione, I love y-"

"Harry, you better not be saying what I think you're saying." Hermione quickly interrupted him. A look of hurt flashed in his green eyes, but Hermione was swift to elaborate. "I know you're going through a difficult time right now, and I know how everything seems like things are out of your control. But tell me, Harry, do you really mean what you say in the way you want it to be meant?"

"I... I don't understand what you're saying, Hermione." Harry answered, confused.

"Look," Hermione sighed. "It is without a doubt that you love me and I love you. We're best friends and we went through a lot together. The fact that we somehow became attracted to one another is amazing and something I'm enjoying."

"So what is the problem?" Harry knitted his eyebrows together. "I mean, what is so wrong with me confessing now?"

"Harry, it's obvious that a war is looming over us. I know that there are a lot of things that are happening that just dwarfs everything altogether. I just want you to not rush into something you're not ready for. I don't want you to confess your feelings out of desperation that at any moment, one of us could die. I don't want a fully-committed relationship governed by the fact that you're trying to grasp something that isn't there.

"We're not normal, Harry. I'm not the girl you can say you love easily and then leave to do what you need to do. You know for a fact that no matter what, I would be there for you. Even if you were stuck in the wilderness for months with little food and water, I would always choose to be the one by your side. That means I'll always be in the danger as well. There is a chance that I could _die_."

Harry frowned. "But, Hermione, I can't help with what I feel."

"I know that, Harry." Hermione faced him, crawling to him on the couch. "You're a person who feels and it's why I'm so attracted to you. However, can you look me in the eyes and tell me that you know everything about me? That you can accept all of my flaws, no matter how bad they are?"

"Yes." Harry whispered, but it lacked the conviction she had wanted.

Hermione smiled sadly and leaned forward, pulling Harry into an enticing kiss. Her tongue snaked their way into his open mouth as he moaned, using it as a distraction for slipping her hand up his shirt. She could feel his smooth skin against her touch and was lost in the pleasure of grasping at his developed muscles. Hermione moved away from his mouth, trailing kisses down from his lips until she could taste his neck. She kissed softly on his jugular, before nipping it lightly with her teeth. Her hand roamed from his neck, settling over the bulge that was forming within his trousers. Hermione gripped lightly, eliciting a pleasurable moan from Harry.

Just as quickly as it started, Hermione ended it. She was now above Harry on the couch, her darkened, brown eyes staring over him. Hermione dipped down and placed a soft, sweet kiss on his lips. "There are many things you don't know about me that I'm afraid would change the way you think of me. It's part of who I am now and it can't be changed."

Hermione stood up from the couch, straightening her shirt and slightly fixing her hair. "I'll be in my room."

She left the loft, hearing Harry's cry of 'Bloody Hell!' as she stepped through the door. Hermione returned to her room and sat down at her bed. Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled a breath. She didn't know what overcame her to act in such a manner to Harry. She knew that she was not ready for whatever he had to say. She did not want to hear those three little words. Not just yet. Her heart clenched at the memory of her actions and how his entrancing, green eyes were filled with hurt over her actions.

It could be said that Hermione knew Harry better than himself, and she acknowledged that Harry was not ready for a serious romantic relationship. He was still grieving over the loss of Sirius, anxious over the Prophecy, and desperate to cling to normalcy. Maybe it was his isolation that enabled him to become attracted to Ginny, but that was all supposition. Whatever the case, Harry needed more time to think and more time to understand his emotions.

Yet, she knew that Harry was not the only reason. The Hermione that was in front of her parents and in front of Harry was not the true identity of the cleverest witch in Hogwarts. In order for her to accept a genuine admittance of love from Harry, he had to know everything that encompassed her. He had to know that she was from the future. He had to know that she had killed before and would continue to do so until it no longer becomes necessary. Until Harry knew the darkness that resided in her, having been corrupted by the war that had yet to begin, Hermione would not allow their relationship to go any further.

"Hermione?" A knock came from her door.

Pushing her thoughts aside, Hermione stood up from the bed and opened her door. Harry had been standing close to the door, his face grave. In a solemn voice, he began, "Hermione, I'm sorry. I think... I think I understand what you were trying to get across."

"Really?" Hermione asked, impressed.

"Yeah, at least I hope I do. You were right. I don't think either of us are ready to deepen what we have." Harry confessed. "I was still emotional and I thought I..."

Hermione placed a finger to his lips, effectively silencing him. "Say no further. You don't have to explain. I'm just glad you got the message. I wasn't saying 'no'. I was saying 'not yet'."

Harry smiled gratefully. "Yeah, that's right."

They stepped towards one another shyly, hugging one another affectionately. Things between them were settled for now.

* * *

><p>Hermione jolted awake. Her hand, held underneath her pillow, was already gripping her wand. She swung her wand hand towards the door, the only conceivable place where an intruder may attack her from. Her unconscious had heard the door creak slowly, falling upon her instincts in order to react. Her response was swift and merciless. A bright red bolt of energy shot from the tip of her wand. The spell cut through the air quickly, reaching her room's doorway.<p>

A dark figure had entered Hermione's room. The lack of light encased the person's features. The Stunning Spell reached the figure's chest, the magical energy glowing from the contact and entering into the chest. The person flew back from the impact of the spell, colliding into the wall opposite of her door. The crash of the body caused a significant amount of noise, completely awakening Hermione from her stupor.

Hermione jumped from her bed, her mind on overdrive and returning to a more dangerous time on the run. She rushed from her room and into the wall. Whoever had been hit was sprawled on the floor, face kissing the floor. Hermione inspected the body, gasping when she recognized the outfit. Her eyes grew pale and her heart raced. Hermione flipped the person around, revealing the familiar mask of a Death Eater covering the head. The robes were loose and dark, the common uniform of Voldemort's wicked legion.

_What__ is a __Death __Eater __doing __here?_ Hermione asked herself fearfully. _What__ about __the __wards?__What __happened __to __the __protections?_

How was it possible for their to be a breach in security? It was Dumbledore and Snape who cast the wards!

Then it dawned on her. _Snape._ She viciously thought. Of course it was Snape. It was Snape that helped put up the protections. It was only obvious that he would be able to find ways to counter it or reveal the information to enable someone else to do so!

Hermione's parents rushed from their room, their eyes worried and scared. The door leading to the loft opened, revealing Harry had also heard the commotion.

"Hermione, what's going on?" Hermione's father asked. He was holding a cricket bat. "Is there a burglar?"

"What, burglar? Hermione, are you alright?" Hermione's mother frantically distressed.

Harry's eyes widened when his gaze rested on the unconscious Death Eater. Hermione knew from the look of his face that he realized what was happening. Hermione turned to her parents, away from the Death Eater. She knew that they would have no means to properly defend themselves against the merciless actions of the Death Eaters.

"Mum, dad, I need you to go up to the loft." Hermione ordered them.

"But -" Her father began.

"Please, I'll explain later. I don't know if we're in danger or not, but this is something that you and mum can't handle. Please, I need you to trust me." Hermione desperately pleaded. "I promise I would tell you everything."

"Listen here, young lady. I demand to know what is going on!" Nathan continued, growing irate.

Hermione knew she would regret it, the guilt would eat at her, but she had no other choice. The witch turned her wand at her own parents, surprising both of them and Harry. She cast a silent _Confundo _and proceeded to verbally tell them to wait in the loft. Both in a daze, they retreated up the steps towards the attic. Harry's eyes aflame with shock and anger.

"Hermione! What did you do?" He yelled in a whisper. "That was your own parents, you can't just -"

"I don't care right now!" Hermione replied irately. "We have a Death Eater unconscious on the floor and we have to deal with that at the moment. Right now, my parents wouldn't understand what's going on and they would be more of a liability if they stayed."

Her heart clenched painfully at the coldness of her tone. She questioned herself why it was so easy for her to act so detached, to rationalize and justify an action that would normally have made her condemn herself. Her mind was too focused on responding to the imminent danger that was about to come down upon them. Hermione knew that the Death Eater wouldn't be alone. If she learned anything from being on the run from them, they were almost always in groups. This simple tactic of working in more than one was terribly effective. Hermione knew that the one she had stunned was a scout, and if he didn't contact anyone else soon, they would all be aware that Harry and Hermione knew they were there.

That would be when all hell would break loose.

"Do you have your wand with you?" Hermione asked him briskly.

Harry, having quietened from Hermione's earlier outburst, nodded and raised his wand. "Yeah. Hermione, we can't stay here. We have to get your parents and leave!"

"I know that, Harry, but we can't just walk out the door. This Death Eater here is just a scout and we only have at least five minutes before they realize something is wrong. We have to contact the Order." Hermione had considered apparition, but she wasn't sure if the Death Eaters had created an anti-disapparition jinx on the parameter. She couldn't afford splinching, especially if she had to disapparate with three other people.

"How? Hedwig is delivering a letter to Ron, she's half-way to Romania by now."

"Who said anything about owls, Harry?" Hermione pointed her wand forward. "_Expecto__ Patronum_!"

She summoned the memory of Harry kissing her just a few weeks before, when she had first forgotten about the troubles of her previous time and allowed herself to immerse herself into believing she was just a normal girl if only for a moment. In the sea of doubts and darkness that plagued her mind, that particular scene was the lone, shining ship that persevered forward. Her patronus burst forth from her wand, shimmering in a bright, golden light. However, to her surprise, it wasn't an otter. Somehow, it had shifted into something else.

_A__phoenix?_ Hermione thought in awe as she saw the shimmering bird of flames flapped its majestic wings. However, Hermione mentally slapped herself. Now was not the time for admiration. Hastily, she told the patronus, "Go to Dumbledore and tell him, 'Death Eaters have attacked the Grangers'." The phoenix patronus nodded its head gracefully and flew away. Hermione winced when it passed through the window of her room and disappeared into the skies, the bright bird very noticeable in the black of night. With it, the Death Eaters would know that Harry and Hermione knew of their arrival.

"When can we send messages with a patronus and why is yours a phoenix?" Harry asked curiously.

"Now is not the time, Harry." Hermione reprimanded.

As she told him this, an explosion shook the house. The loud roar of the discharge came from downstairs. Hermione estimated the front door had been blown open, allowing any Death Eater to start charging in.

"Hermione, someone has to lure the Death Eaters away from the house. We can't move with your parents and it'll be safer if they stayed here. They probably want me, so I'll draw their attention. You stay here and guard your parents."

"Harry, that's crazy." Hermione hissed. "I'm not going to let you run off by yourself!"

"Yeah, well, you don't have a choice." Harry stated forcefully before sprinting downstairs, his wand raised and prepared for action.

Hermione silently cursed Harry's brashness and courage; two traits that she both loved and hated about him. She raised her wand, summoning the Hand of Glory from its place in the drawers of her desk. Gripping it steely with her her left hand, Hermione rushed downstairs after Harry.

She arrived to find the battle already unfolding. Harry was half way down the spiral staircase, hiding behind the railing from incoming spells. The Death Eaters, from the looks of it, were resorting to non-violent combat spells. Harry was right in his assumption that they were after him. No doubt the Death Eaters were ordered that only the Dark Lord would be allowed to kill Harry. Harry would rise up slightly and fire multiple stunning spells in rapid succession, but would either miss or be easily blocked by the more experienced Death Eaters.

Using the element of surprise, Hermione recklessly ran passed Harry, holding up the Hand of Glory in front of her. She willed a forceful wave of light to erupt from its palm. The Death Eaters exposed to the light directly immediately stopped in their tracks, suddenly petrified in mid-action. Unbalanced, the four dark wizards or witches that were victims of the Hand of Glory fell to the floor, unable to move.

"Don't run off by yourself, Harry." Hermione told him, her wand still out. "No matter what happens, I'll always be by your side."

Harry didn't ask about the Hand of Glory, but Hermione saw his eyes trained on them. "Are you mad, Hermione? I'm not going to let you get hurt."

"Too bad, you don't have a choice. We can argue now and be distracted or we can argue later when were safe. I vote for the latter."

Harry scowled, but understood. "... Fine. But stay close, alright?"

"I could say the same for you."

Nothing else was said as they walked through the gaping hole that once been the front door and the living room window. They found themselves witnessing a magical fight between two older witches and several Death Eaters in their uniforms on the streets in front of the house. Hermione recognized the brunette to be Emmeline Vance and the blonde to be Hestia Jones. Two of the Advance Guard of the Order of the Phoenix. The two witches of light exchanged spells with five other Death Eaters, easily matching their opponents despite being outnumbered. Hermione now knew why Emmeline Vance's death in the previous timeline was a hard blow to the Order.

Harry and Hermione took the opportunity to ambush the unassuming Death Eaters. Harry moved forward, shouting several jinxes, hexes, and stunning charms at all five of them without restraint. His attacks weren't enough and had only been a distraction to the Death Eaters. However, Harry's distraction caused two of Voldemort's followers to be felled by the combined might of Emmeline and Hestia.

Hermione was more clever in her assault. Knowing that the Hand of Glory was useless unless they were directly exposed to the light, Hermione tucked it away and favored using her wand instead. She raised her wand and flicked her wrist, a purple haze of energy was summoned and bolted forward towards the expanse of gravel between the remaining three Death Eaters. The blasting curse exploded into a volcano of gravel. Their pained cries of the shockwave and subsequent small stones embedding into their skin were music to Hermione's ears.

As they were distracted, Hermione flung her wand arm forward. A crack resonated from her wand as a whip of fire was produced from her tip. The fire whip elongated as she flicked her wrist forward, making it wrap it around the three Death Eaters and burning their flesh. As the flames seared into their skin, the whip wrapped itself tightly around all three Death Eaters, effectively capturing them. To ensure that they would not be escaping, Harry, Hestia, and Emmeline stunned them.

"Harry, you're alright!" Hestia shouted in relief. "Emmeline and I saw some enter inside, but we were pinned down!"

"We're okay." Harry said, taking charge of the situation. "But Hermione's parents are inside and we have to get them out of here safely. We tried to lure the Death Eaters out, but it looks like we're alright."

But Hermione knew nothing was alright. Her mind was still on edge, thinking that someone was still watching them. Hermione kept her wand raised, keeping watch as Harry and the two Order members talked. Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted a movement in the shadows behind Hestia Jones and Emmeline Vance.

A white stream of light assaulted the two Order members. Reacting quickly, Harry saw the oncoming spell and pushed Emmeline and Hestia down. Instead of striking the two Order members, the spell struck Harry, knocking him backwards. He cried out in pain as his wand arm and left leg contorted in a way it was not meant to. Hermione had heard a crack when he had landed and found Harry's wand arm broken.

The assailant didn't simply stop just because Harry was down though. Whoever it was, they moved quickly and shot two red bolts of energy, striking the two older witches. They were knocked unconscious. Another spell was fired at her, but Hermione quickly strafed right to avoid it. Despite having cast three spells, the assailant had yet to show themselves. However, a shimmering light from below a lamppost hinted the nature of the attacker. Hermione raised her arm forward and yelled, "_Accio__ Invisibility __Cloak_!"

As she had expected, the assailant was using an invisibility cloak. The magical garment was summoned and discarded, revealing the twisted smile of Bellatrix Lestrange. Her skeletal and gaunt features made her entire appearance more menacing in the little light there was on the street. Her frayed hair made her look manic, but that was already obvious by the wild, evil gleam that was in her grim, black eyes.

"Hello, Miss Mudblood." Bellatrix greeted her sardonically.

Hermione felt her blood boil at the sight of her. How could she forget the time in Malfoy Manor when the loyal lieutenant of Voldemort tortured her endlessly? How could she forget the most insulting word in magical vocabulary being carved onto her hand? Hermione could remember having those sleepless nights, waking up in a cold sweat over and over again as she relived those awful memories. She would always try to forget, but the filthy word on her hand always ensured she would be reminded of the pain. But worst of all, Bellatrix _killed_ her. She took her life and now, it was time to take hers.

"Hermione, run." Harry wheezed as he gripped his broken arm, he was at the brink of passing out from whatever curse he had been hit with. "Run away."

Hermione glanced at Harry, having forgotten he was there. He looked at her pleadingly, begging her to leave. She could see the fear in his eyes, of being scared of losing another person he loved to the crazed woman.

"Poor little Potty, all hurt and broken. Maybe you should listen to him, Mudblood." Bellatrix mocked her, taking on a sickeningly sweet voice.

Hermione shook her head solemnly at Harry. "I can't." She closed her eyes and exhaled softly. "I can't run away because I promised myself that I would never abandon you again, Harry."

All thoughts of revenge ended and the urge to protect dominated her emotions. She felt a fire within her had been lit and was ready to burst.

With a violent slash of her arm, Hermione spun around and relegated a curse at Bellatrix. A white crescent of magical energy surged from Hermione's wand, hurtling towards Bellatrix. The dark witch ducked sideways, narrowly avoiding the surprise attack. However, she was unable to avoid Hermione's attack unscathed. A portion of her hair had been cut from the curse, making one side of her appearance completely uneven.

Bellatrix moved to counter, her reflexes sharp as ever. She flicked her wrist but created no discernible effect from her wand. It was not until Hermione heard the creak of wood behind her did she spun around and grasped what Bellatrix was aiming for. The tree planted in her front yard had been badly damage from the initial fighting and Bellatrix took advantage of its weakened state. It came crashing down on Hermione, but the younger witch swiftly waved at her wand with a snap and pointed it towards Bellatrix, ready to discharge another spell.

Her response worked brilliantly as instead of falling on top of her, Hermione had caused the tree to fly towards Bellatrix's current position. Undeterred, Voldemort's top lieutenant effortlessly dismissed the tree and transfigured the large tree into a ravenous wolf. Hermione was impressed by the excellent usage of transfiguration on Bellatrix's part as that branch of magic typically took great concentration. The wolf growled threateningly and sprinted towards Hermione at a speed only a wolf was capable of. It lunged at her, threatening to tear at her throat. Hermione stabbed her wand into its jugular, silently vanishing it into oblivion.

Unfortunately, the wolf's attack warranted brilliancy on Bellatrix's part. Hermione cried out in pain as a sharp sensation exploded in her chest. She peered down at her chest to find a large cut running down from her left shoulder to her heart. Blood was quickly spilling from the open wound and Hermione felt her head spin from the amount of blood she was quickly losing. Bellatrix's success caused the dark witch to grin madly, obviously pleased at the painful wound she had made.

"Aw, does it hurt? Don't worry, I'll make it feel a lot _better_! _CRUCIO!_"

Hermione was all too familiar with that certain Unforgivable. She threw herself to her side, the surging pain of her cut running through her body. Hermione ignored it and raised her wand above her head. Bellatrix jeered at her, asking her mockingly if she was surrendering. The young witch raised her head and stared coolly into the eyes of the Death Eater. The dark witch gasped and then quickly snarled as she watched the wound that her curse inflicted began to recede and heal.

She had never wanted to use the spell she wanted to use now. Hermione felt that it was too dangerous for her to control and that the risks far outweighed the benefits. But it didn't matter now, somehow, it seemed like it was the only way to eliminate Bellatrix Lestrange once and for all, avenging the deaths of all those that felled before her. Most important of all, it would protect Harry.

"_IGNI INFERI!_"

An intense ball of flame was conjured from the tip of Hermione's wand, completely engulfing her in a manner of seconds. The entrails of the fire roared to life as it spun in a torrential pillar around Hermione's form. Within, Hermione was neither scorched nor burned, she didn't even feel the uncomfortable sensation that was usually associated with being so close to such burning heat. The flames thrilled into a loud cry, rising above Hermione and revealing her from its shield. The fire began to shift to make a lifelike form, creating a behemoth-like phoenix. Hermione raised both her hands, her wand arm bent back but pointing at Bellatrix.

Akin to that of a maestro conducting the symphony, Hermione began the performance with a sudden explosion. Thrusting her wand forward, the _Fiendfyre_ screeched with obedience. It glided towards Bellatrix like a hawk swooping down on its meal. Bellatrix showed panic, something Hermione had never seen her have when in battle. The _Fiendfyre's_ beak clamped down upon the dark witch when it edged closer, blackening the road with its intense heat. Only luck saved Bellatrix as she tripped and fell in her haste, narrowly avoiding the _Fiendfyre_. Her wand arm, though, wasn't as fortunate. Hermione watched with cool indifference as Bellatrix cried in utter agony as she clutched the charred stub of what was formerly her limb.

Hermione raised her wand up, directing the _Fiendfyre_ into the skies. She was going to finish off Bellatrix once and for all. The phoenix conjured from the intense fire lightened the skies with its brightness. It thrilled once more before it bolted downward towards where Bellatrix's pained form laid on the road. But just as it was about to engulf Bellatrix entirely, Hermione heard the crack of apparition coming from Bellatrix's position. A dark figure stood next to her, their wand raised. Instead of scorching the two, a clear dome light surrounded them. The fires battered away against the dome, but it was unable to pierce through its protective layers. It did nothing but scorch the ground surrounding it until all of the flames of the _Fiendfyre_ dispersed.

The dark figured raised their pale hands at the edges of their hood and lowered it. In the darkness of night, Hermione saw the glowing red eyes of the most insidious villain that had ever existed. An oddly gentle, but wry smile was upon his snake-like visage, making it more menacing than what it typically was. He turned to Hermione, gazing at her with amusement.

"It is admirable to find such an individual who is capable of dueling with such prowess." Voldemort cast a disappointed glance at Bellatrix. "My poor, poor Bellatrix. Bested by a Mudblood? Your arrogance had brought you down."

"M-my l-l-lord, p-please! A-allow me to c-c-continue." Bellatrix pleaded slavishly, her face still contorting into indescribable pain.

Voldemort ignored her and shifted his attention back to Hermione. "For your skill, I will allow you to leave Potter and run away to whatever miserable hovel you intend to go to. Be grateful, I do not typically extend such _favors_ to your _kind_." He sneered. "What is your answer?"

There was no other choice. Harry would always be her choice. Hermione raised her wand, preparing herself for the inevitable clash. Gazing defiantly into Voldemort's soulless eyes, she answered him,

"Your defeat."

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: The one thing that always bugged me in canon is that Hermione is easily considered one of the most powerful witches in the series, but yet J.K. Rowling almost always never allows Hermione to shine in battle. Then again, I think Rowling likes to keep Hermione from succeeding in her typical battles because she wanted Harry – or someone else – to have a chance to shine instead. Hermione is a powerful combatant. It's been known that she knows a lot of spells and can use most of them non-verbally. She also has amazing control and unique but flexible dueling style that typically keeps her opponents guessing. I wanted to show that.

Also, there is something more to Hermione than meets the eye. After all, it wasn't simply coincidence that she was able to be reborn in some point of her past. I left little, but subtle hints, as to why that is in previous chapters, but I decided to start showing more obvious signs in this chapter. The explanation is drawing near, after all! Anyway, I think I'm babbling here because it has been quite a while since I wrote combat scenes. I was very excited to write it, but I wasn't sure if it is up to par. I hoped you all enjoyed this chapter and would continue to read it in the future!


	17. Chapter XVII

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: To those who commented about Hermione becoming a Mary Sue or being too powerful than how she should be, I can understand the concerns. I wanted to showcase Hermione actually being capable in combat. I'm not selling Harry short, but you have to understand that his mental state is currently not ready to handle the battle that had occurred. In fact, you could say that Harry wasn't fit for combat at all throughout his Sixth Year with the way he was acting during the sixth book. Anyway, Hermione is still a complex individual filled with flaws, so I don't think she is a Mary Sue. Perhaps you meant she was becoming a Mary Tzu or God Mode Sue? Hm, I don't think so.

Also, someone asked me about the Hand of Glory. I had researched the Hand of Glory beforehand and it was stated in the research and a few chapters ago that it was capable of stunning people. However, I didn't want to make it all-powerful, so I made it so that there were some weakness to it. For example, it can only petrify people if someone was able to look directly into its light. The concept is similar to that of the Basilisk, except the petrification is more likened to the stunning spell more than anything else.

Another thing, people wondered why the Order hadn't arrived yet. Well, the entire battle spanned only for a few minutes. Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix had to first be informed with what was happening (Hermione's patronus). Then, they had to be summoned and then taken. There were other things that had to be done, but you will see it once you read the story.

As for the incantation of _Fiendfyre_, does anyone have suggestions?

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter XVII**

Silence reigned the night as Hermione stated her intentions. Whatever emotions the Dark Lord may have felt, it was hidden under the cool mask of indifference. His serpentine face twisted into a sneer as his maddening, red eyes stared haughtily at her. Slowly, Lord Voldemort, the most twisted and most powerful dark wizard of the ages, began barking with laughter. The merriment of his bellowing sent shivers down Hermione's spine. His laughter was tainted by the very corruption that Voldemort held. It was unsettling.

"_My _defeat?" Voldemort sneered. "Do you truly believe that _you_ are a match for Lord Voldemort?"

Her wand still trained on his form, Hermione did not allow the chill of his words deter her. She remained strong, glaring at Voldemort with fierce contempt. Gathering her thoughts, Hermione determinedly spoke, "Years ago, Lily and James Potter thrice escaped you. If they were able to do that much, then I know that I can surely defeat you. Magic is all about the intention and with it, I can control how I weave my magic."

"Foolish girl." Voldemort remarked. "Even if you were as powerful as Dumbledore himself, fate has conspired that _you_ will not be able to best me. The brat before you is your only hope of victory, but look at him, groveling at his feet like a frightened schoolboy. This Harry Potter is nothing more than a shell of his former self, surely you can't believe he could defeat me?"

"HERMIONE!" Harry shouted. "Just run! Please, just run away. You can't face him by yourself!" He struggled to stand up, but his injured leg prevented him. Nevertheless, he somehow managed to stand up despite his wounds, showcasing his resolve. His wand arm was broken, leaving him to wield his wand with his opposite hand. Harry was wincing considerably, further proving the opinion that his actions were strongly hurting him.

"See, even Potter believes you are of no match to me. Do not try my patience any further, Mudblood."

Hermione turned her slightly to the side to glimpse at Harry. She bit her bottom lip as she realized the extent of his injuries. Harry was never one to give up, but that only meant that he would continue on going until he was dead on the floor. She internally shook her head, begging that for once, Harry would stand down and allow her to handle it. She knew there was no guarantee that she would last against the infamous Dark Lord, but Hermione hoped that she could buy them enough time for the Order to arrive.

Their eyes made contact and they held a silent conversation through a single gaze alone. Hermione pleaded for Harry to allow her to duel his nemesis, but he was begging for her to run away. He wanted her to abandon him and leave him to his destiny. Why was it that Harry was so accepting that he was going to die? Why was it that Harry was willing to give up his life? His death would only kill her. Maybe not immediately, but it would be an antagonizing, slow death. Her heart would shatter into pieces until it could no longer support her life.

_Please,__leave __me.__I __rather __you __live __than __die. _Harry told her with a simple look.

However, Hermione shook her head. _Never._

Hermione violently whipped her wand towards Voldemort. A trail of bright, white flames formed viciously in the air and was flung in a crescent shape towards the Dark Lord. The fire burned brightly, nearly blinding. It reached Voldemort, but the more experienced wizard merely flicked his wrist and deflected the blast onto the ground. The white flames generated a small explosion upon making contact with the concrete, scorching the stone.

Undeterred, Hermione stepped forward and began casting a myriad of spells. Her arm never stopped moving as she performed complicated wand movements at a pace that only a rare few could follow. Different colored magical essences burst forth from the tip, each moving towards its mark. Voldemort looked unamused, sneering smugly as he countered against each spell. Hermione knew he was mocking her, tiring her out as he easily maneuvered against her assortment of charms, curses, and other spells.

Although she was making no progress, Hermione's resolve only deepened furthered. Her mind raced as she tried to think of more creative ways to battle the Dark Lord. There was no chance that she could defeat him through brute force, Hermione had to outwit Voldemort and become more cunning than the man who perceives himself to be the Heir of Salazar Slytherin, founder of the house that adheres to that very trait.

Hermione carefully analyzed her options, hoping that Voldemort had fallen to her clever trap that she would do nothing but rely on spells to defeat him. He had to underestimate her if her plan was to succeed. Hermione swung her wand arm in an arc, the point of the wand glowing with magic. She leveled her weapon to face Voldemort and thrust forward, "_Expelliarmus!_"

Voldemort laughed. "How disappointing! To think this is all you can muster? I gave you far too much credit." The red bolt of magical energy was blocked with a simple spell. However, as soon as he had done so, the stone beneath his feet suddenly grew uneven and from the ground came forth vines made from rock coursing its way upwards around Voldemort's legs. It was a transfiguration far more advanced typically taught at Hogwarts but it was something that Hermione would know. She had read ahead, after all.

For that one brief moment of confusion, Hermione swiftly continued her ploy. She shot the blasting curse from her wand. A purple ball of light erupted from her wand surrounded in wisps of violet mist. It cut through the air nearly like a bullet, reaching Voldemort in a single second. A explosion rocketed from where Voldemort stood as he struggled against Hermione's crafty trap. Seemingly successful, Hermione wanted to jump for joy, but she knew better than to make any conclusions just yet.

A smoke was formed from where the Dark Lord was struck. Hermione had her wand fixated on that single position alone, ready for anything.

"_AVADA__ KEDAVRA!_"

A sickly green stream of magical energy broke forth from the hazy barrier. Hermione felt her body freezing at the sight of _Killing __Curse_. Immediately, her mind regressed back to the very moment when it was Bellatrix that cast that horrid spell. Her body did not move as she had ordered it to and she cursed herself for being so careless.

"NO! _EXPELLIARMUS!_" Cried Harry from behind her.

A jet of red lightning passed by her and collided in mid-air with the _Killing __Curse_. Hermione, broken free from her trance, turned and found Harry wielding his wand and desperately trying to hold onto it. His eyes were filled with unbridled desperation as he struggled to remain standing despite the pain that was surely coursing throughout his body. Hermione's eyes became filled with tears at the sight of Harry once again locked in a struggle for wills. She did not know what overcame her, but Hermione reached for him.

To her surprise, a dome of light formed from where the two spells were connected, pushing her from her goal. Hermione was knocked to the ground, groaning in pain as the wound she had temporarily closed up earlier reopened again. Blood trailed from her injuries, but Hermione ignored that. She stood back up and desperately tried to push through the dome of light. Hermione remembered what this was. She could vividly recollect the memory when Harry told her about this strange phenomenon.

_Priori __Incantantem_.

"HARRY!" Hermione screamed his name as she banged helplessly against the dome. She watched as Harry crumpled onto the floor, no longer having the physical support he needed. There was an exchange of words between Harry and Voldemort, but Hermione could not hear it over the spiraling thoughts that moved chaotically in her mind. The green spell energy of the _Killing__ Curse_ was overcoming the _Disarming __Charm_ that Harry had used, making her fears and worries worsen by the second.

_No.__ No. __No. __No. __No. __No. __No. __No. __No. __No. __No. __No. __No. __No. __No. __No._ Hermione ranted over and over again in her mind. She banged against the dome more violently than ever before, creating dark bruises on her fair skin. Hermione sunk to her knees, her eyes becoming empty as she realized that she could do nothing more but watch as the _Killing__ Curse_ grew dangerously closer and closer to Harry.

Hermione prayed for a miracle. None came.

Before the ghostly apparitions of those killed by Voldemort appeared, he had gained the upper hand and the _Killing__ Curse_ overpowered Harry. The sickly, green bolt struck Harry on the chest and he fell backwards. The dome of light fell through, its purpose now over. Hermione dropped her wand and clutched her face, her fingernails digging into her flesh.

"HARRY!" She shrieked. Forgetting her wand, Hermione rushed to Harry's side. She grabbed him by the shoulder and hysterically pleaded. "Wake up, Harry, wake up! I know you're alive. YOU DID IT ONCE BEFORE AND YOU CAN DO IT AGAIN!"

"Foolish, Mudblood. Harry Potter, the so-called Boy Who Lived, is dead." The slithering voice of Lord Voldemort stated.

Hermione turned from Harry and found herself looking up to the Dark Lord. He had a look of triumph on his smug face as his wand was pointed at Hermione. The spark of determined defiance that once filled Hermione's eyes were now gone. Instead, it was replaced with the air of defeat, resigned to whatever fate had in store for her.

"I don't care." Hermione whispered under her breath. "Just kill me."

Voldemort smiled. "No."

Hermione gazed at him, an open stream of tears falling from her eyes. "JUST KILL ME."

The Dark Lord chuckled, patting her head affectionately with his hand. "No, you will be allowed to live. Lord Voldemort has no need to waste his energy on you."

Voldemort turned away from her and strode towards the sniveling form of Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione glared after him, rubbing away the tears with her forearm. She yelled out to him, "I have nothing! Why don't you just kill me and let it be over with?"

He paused, slowly craning his neck to stare at her. With a sardonic grin, he replied, "But haven't I already killed you?"

What little energy Hermione had left was gone. Her arms fell listlessly to her side as she pondered over the words that Voldemort had spoken. He was right. She was already dead inside. Hermione knew that somehow, Harry was revived in the previous timeline. However, she had no idea on how it happened or what occurred. Her theories mostly revolved around the Horcrux within him, but even with that, Hermione could be not sure if that was even correct. Perhaps even the circumstances that led to his revival had changed.

All of the sudden, Hermione heard the sound of cracks erupting all around her. Tearing her eyes away from Harry's lifeless body, she caught sight of the familiar uniform of the aurors all around her. At the helm of the group was Dumbledore. Behind him were the recognizable faces of members of the Order of the Phoenix. Hermione saw the worried yet determined faces of the Weasleys – Arthur and Molly especially, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Dumbledore, his wand pointed at Voldemort, moved forward towards him in long strides.

"TOM!" Dumbledore bellowed. "I will not allow you to escape again!"

"You're too late, Dumbledore! Harry Potter is dead! Killed by none other than Lord Voldemort!" Voldemort earnestly stated, gesturing to Hermione and Harry.

Gasps were heard throughout the aurors and the Order as they found their hero dead on the floor next to Hermione. Molly and Remus screamed out his name, but they were forcibly held back by Arthur and Tonks respectively. Dumbledore turned and faced her, his eyes growing wide with utter disbelief and overwhelming sadness as he caught sight of Hermione's battered appearance and Harry's lifeless corpse.

Dumbledore returned and faced Voldemort. From a simple glance alone, something had change within him. No longer was he the kindly sage that was the Headmaster of Hogwarts. It was now replaced with the commanding and all-powerful presence of the man who had defeated the previous Dark Lord known as Gellert Grindelwald. He, alone, was now the sole man who could strike fear into Lord Voldemort, considered to be the vilest Dark Lord in all of history.

"So you have." Dumbledore said, struggling to keep his emotions in check. "You will not escape. Not after what you have done. You will find yourself unable to leave, Tom, and if I have to, I would personally see to it that you cannot escape."

Hermione stared solemnly at Harry, noting the strange peacefulness that he had. She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill again as she draped herself over his body. Hermione felt something poke her stomach and looked down to find Harry's wand pushing into her stomach. She carefully removed the wand from his grip, abruptly feeling a reassuring sensation from Harry's wand.

"Then let us duel, Dumbledore!"

Hermione watched as Dumbledore and Voldemort trained their wands on another. She couldn't care less over what was happening. However, as she stared into the malicious form of Voldemort, she felt a dark feeling swell within her. It was the same emotion that eclipsed her entirely when she had killed Mr. Borgin and burned his shop to the ground. It was the same emotion that enticed her to take the Hand of Glory for herself and to use it as a tool of her own. It was the same emotion that she felt when she was at the Battle of Hogwarts, taking the lives of her enemies in order to take revenge for killing Harry.

Now, it once again controlled her.

Slowly, Hermione rose from the ground. She caught sight of Tonks bravely approaching her, her eyebrows knitted with worry and sympathy. Hermione ignored her and stared ahead towards the duel. Dumbledore and Voldemort were locked in a fierce stare, carefully analyzing one another before one of them made the first move. Hermione raised Harry's wand, her eyes becoming as soulless as the very being she wished to dispose of. She could feel it, the darkness that had always been a part of her; the darkness that she wanted to hold back so desperately.

As Dumbledore and Voldemort were distracted with one another, Hermione pointed the Holly wand with phoenix feather core at the Dark Lord and softly whispered,

"_Avada __Kedavra._"

* * *

><p><strong>END OF PART I<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: You read correctly, that was the end of Part I. I realized it ended at a cliffhanger and you must really hate me for that, however, this is how I envisioned things were going to be. At first, I wanted to include this in Chapter XVI, but I wanted to dedicate an entire chapter on Hermione's confrontation with Voldemort. As a reminder, this is all from Hermione's perspective, so we often don't get to hear things unless she was paying attention. Hopefully, you enjoyed reading all of this chapter and the chapters before this. There are still a lot of questions to be had, but hopefully, all will be answered following Part I. For now, I think it's time I take a small break from this story.

Anyway, I would like to take the time to thank everyone that has reviewed this story. I don't want to say any names, but the ones who have constantly reviewed almost every chapter I wrote was something I always looked forward to. Of course, there are those that criticized it, but I loved that even more! There are always bound to be a conflict of opinions, but the amazing thing about writing is that I was able to cause a reaction out of a person. Thank you reviewers, you really make me glad that I took up fanfiction just only a few months ago!


	18. Intermission I: Turn Back the Hourglass

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: Happy New Year's Day everyone! As a present, I offer you this chapter for all to read. Unfortunately, it does not involve Hermione in any way. In fact, it is simply an intermission between Part I and Part II. Hopefully, you will all appreciate it! I was a little nervous in writing it because I'm using new characters I never wrote about before and hopefully, I was able to pull it off.

* * *

><p><strong>Intermission I<strong>

**Turn Back the Hourglass**

The dead of winter had finally struck the Scotland landscape that surrounded Hogwarts. As far as the eye could see, snow had fallen, blanketing the world with its white sheet. Outside the walls of the castle, it felt as if the entire world had fallen quiet. Even the loch had nary a wave amidst its waters. The Forbidden Forest – rifled with dangerous creatures – remained silent as the frost of the season had settled. Overhead, the clouds have merged together to create one large mass that completely hid the bright sun away.

All was still.

Albus Dumbledore, Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts, found the majesty just outside the windows of his office to be completely unsettling. He gazed at the beauty of the scenery that laid before him with a heavy heart, knowing that miles away from the isolation of this wondrous place, men – boys really – were laying down their lives on foreign soil in a war that should never have been fought. Both muggles and magicals alike were dying in bloody combat, trying their best to protect those they held so dear.

Albus turned away from the window and returned to his desk. His eyes rested on one of the numerous framed photographs that decorated his space. Residing in the frame was a picture of two young men, smiling into the camera with both elation and youthful arrogance. The shorter of the two, sporting round spectacles and short, straight hair, was none other than himself. However, it was not himself that Albus focused on, but the other boy. He was handsome, incredibly so. Even in a photograph, one could see the charisma he exuded in his seemingly warm eyes. Albus regarded the boy fondly, it had been a simpler time when Gellert Grindelwald hadn't fully fallen prey to the seductions of the dark.

Perhaps he was being too optimistic. Who was to say that the Gellert he had known in his youth hadn't already succumbed to the forbidden fruit of the Dark Arts?

Now, several decades later, the name Grindelwald was able to make the entire magical world tremble. He had raised an army of loyal followers, using the chaos of the war between the muggles as a means for his bid for power. Sweeping across eastern Europe towards the west, his army had conquered, established, and ruled domains. In their trail, they had committed unfathomable atrocities the likes of which the world has never seen before. No other wizard or witch before him had ever struck so much terror into the hearts and minds of people as his former friend did.

Albus knew he could never forgive him for what he had done. The man had taken everything from him. His intrusion to his life had cost him his siblings. Ariana was dead. The horrific event of her demise would forever be burned into memory. Even to this day, he was haunted by the belief that he may have been the one that had cast the spell that ended her life. Whether or not it was truly him, Albus knew that her blood was on his hands. Even with her mind gone, Albus had truly believed that she would have gotten better. However, that hope had been extinguished.

Aberforth never forgave him. In addition to losing his sister, Albus had also lost a brother. There was no mistaking that his last remaining family had wanted nothing to do with him. They hadn't had contact in years. Last he he heard of his dear brother, Aberforth had set forth on a quest for vengeance against Gellert. How long had that been? Four decades ago? For the life of him, Albus had not been able to stop him. He had seen his eyes on the night he left. His eyes were so full of rage and hate, Aberforth would have used force if he had stopped him then.

Albus knew Aberforth was still alive. Amongst the remains of their old home, he had kept the family clock that displayed their status. He never had the heart to remove the names of his mother, father, and Arianna. To do so would cause more grief than simply watching the hands never leaving "Dead". Aberforth's name was still "Away" and he knew that with time, he would come home. His brother still considered him to be home, even with the years of silence. The magic of the clock ensured that somewhere in his brother's angry heart, he still cared for him and perhaps had even forgiven him.

He envied Aberforth. He had the tenacity and the conviction to do what he thought was warranted. The public cried out for Gellert's defeat, but yet Albus dared not budge from his comfortable and easy lifestyle as a Hogwarts professor. Albus was much too afraid to confront his former friend. He was too fearful that Gellert would know who was the one that had killed Arianna that day. As much as it shamed him, Albus did not want to know the truth. He had to chuckle at his blatant cowardice. Wasn't he, Albus Dumbledore, once a student of Gryffindor? Where was his courage to do what was right?

"Professor?" A soothing voice called out on the other side of his door.

Shaken from his thoughts, Albus recollected his bearings. "Who is it?" He asked, loud enough for the person opposite of the door could hear.

"It's Tom Riddle, sir." Came the reply.

Albus smiled and raised his hand. With a curl of his wrist, the door suddenly burst open. A young man that had stood in front of his office displayed a look of surprise. His dark, raven locks was groomed immaculately. He had black, stern eyes that complemented well with the thoughtful gaze Tom often sported. He was undoubtedly handsome and gave off an air of a studious intellectual. Albus found the lad to be very polite and charming, having been able to earn the respect and affection of his peers. Fortunately, Tom was humble and served as a role model for many students, both above and below his year.

Smiling warmly at the young man, "Young Tom, how may I assist you this evening?"

Tom stepped forward, taking his words as an invitation to enter. His features remained reserved as per the norm, but a hint of a smile played at his lips. Albus was well-aware of the tough life that the boy had before he began attending Hogwarts. When he had first met him, Albus knew of his bullying tendencies in the orphanage he grew up in. Hoping to curb that, Albus had taken Tom under his wing despite the lad not being part of his House. Within the next few years, Tom grew up to be the figure that he was today. Albus was proud of him.

"I have something I wish to speak to you about." Tom told him, a slight hint of worry laced in his words. "I would prefer if we be discreet."

Though strange it was for Tom to act anxious, Albus complied with his request. Again, he performed a bout of wandless magic and closed his door, locking it as well. He gestured Tom to sit on the comfortable chair in front of his desk, raising his wand to clear away some of the miscellaneous papers on his desk. Albus was not unfamiliar with this procedure. Having been a teacher for years, Albus had his share of students seeking him for his counsel. The auburn-haired wizard couldn't help but internally smile at the amount of trust and faith his students placed on him. It made him swell with pride, eclipsing the shame of his past.

"What would you like to speak about, Tom?" Albus asked gently, taking on the tone a patient father would for his child.

Tom gazed at him thoughtfully. Albus had seen the look before and it was often the case of the student considering whether or not he was to be trusted. For a few terse moments, all was silent. Finally, Tom sighed and reached a conclusion. Considering Albus to be trustworthy, he spoke, "Professor, have you ever considered what death may be like? As in, do you believe that there could be a life after death?"

Albus seriously pondered the question. A long time ago, he remembered Gellert speaking of the Deathly Hallows, tools that could make the wielder the Master of Death. Though at the time, he had believed those three items from the famous story to be true, he had come to accept that it had been nothing more than an old tale for children.

"As I become older with each passing year, there are times when I am left to question my own mortality. You see, Tom, death is an inevitability that we, as humans, cannot hope to escape from." Albus drew in breath and then slowly exhaled it. "Having come to accept this, many of us would like to believe that there _is_ an afterlife. Personally, I believe that there death is simply the next grand adventure. Hopefully, those that left the world before us would be able to attain what they truly wanted when they pass."

Tom remained silent, no doubt contemplating over the Transfiguration professor's words. Albus couldn't help but feel slightly worried for the boy he had came to care for as a son. He had never married, thus it was impossible for him to have any children. He soon viewed his students as surrogate children, and Albus always tried to care for the well-being of the boys and girls under his care.

"Is everything alright, Tom?" Albus inquired worriedly.

"I'm sorry," Tom finally answered. "It's just... I recently received a message from the orphanage I grew up in that... that one of my former acquaintances had been killed abroad. He was participating in that muggle war and... he died."

Tom leaned back into his seat, his eyes clouding with emotions Albus had never seen before. Albus could not help but solemnly shake his head at the news. He had helped encourage Tom to be more sociable with the other children at his orphanage. From what Tom had told him was that his relationship had considerably improved since his childhood. Together, he had left behind the past where he had done harm to them. It saddened Albus that Tom was met with a chilling revelation that nothing was forever. Albus knew that Tom was now confronted with his own mortality.

"I am glad that you are willing to talk to me about this, Tom. It is not easy for someone as young as you to be faced with such a terrible event."

"It does relieve me of the burden that is on my shoulders, Professor. However, I am still unable to shake off the unease I feel. What if I could die tomorrow, Professor? What then? What would I have left behind that would prove my existence?"

"Tom, I will most assuredly tell you that you will not meet your end until many years from now." Albus whispered softly. "You are a bright and eager student, and I know you will be able to do great things that will no doubt place your name in the annals of history. Do not be dismayed at the thought of death. In fact, you should embrace it! It will allow you to appreciate the life you still have now."

"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore." Tom said, his lips finally curving into a small smile. "You have no idea how much it comforts me to hear those words."

Albus chuckled merrily, delighted to have helped. "I'm more than glad to have been of use to you, Tom."

"May I make another request, sir?"

"Of course, Tom. What is it?"

"May I talk about him?" Tom requested, stuttering slightly. "I think it would make me feel better if I did."

"But of course!"

With that said, Tom began reminiscing the time spent in the orphanage alongside his fallen friend. Albus, of course, listened to Tom intently, picturing the boyhood years of his student. Feelings of pride and gratification course through him as he observed the young man in front of him. He had endured great hardships and loneliness, but fortunately, Tom hadn't fallen to the darkness that beckoned from those intense emotions. Albus could see it in Tom's eyes that he longer wished to do harm to anyone. What was once cold and hardened was now filled with great warmth and kindness.

Hours passed since Tom began talking and Albus noticed that it was already nightfall. "Tom, while I do enjoy our little chat, I'm afraid that I must stop you." He gestured to the clock on his desk. "It is past curfew and I wouldn't want you to be in trouble. You are a prefect after all."

Tom glanced at the clock and nodded respectfully. "I apologize, Professor. I didn't mean to take up a great deal of your time."

Albus chuckled and waved his hand dismissively. "Do not apologize. I am glad that we had this talk."

Tom once again nodded and stood up. He bid his farewell and went for the door. However, as he passed through the threshold into the hallway, Tom stopped and turned his neck. In a faint murmur, he asked Albus, "Sir, do you believe it is possible to stop death?"

"No," Albus instantly said. He craned his neck to face Tom, a knowing smile adorning his features. "I have once believed that it was entirely possible to do such a thing, but it is something that cannot be done. Not even the Elixir of Life can prevent death, it can only delay the inevitable. It is a fruitless endeavor, I trust that you will not try anything?"

"Of course, Professor. I didn't mean to insinuate..."

"I know, Tom. Do not fall prey to the temptation that has led many others into madness."

On those parting words, Tom left. Albus removed his spectacles and pinched the bridge of his nose. He sighed mournfully, the memories of Arianna's death assaulting him once more. He despised being reminded of his failure and he despised himself for allowing Geller to escape, thereby giving him the chance to create his evil army. Once more, Albus saw how his life was marked with tragedy and failure again and again. He opened a drawer and removed a flask from within it. Unscrewing the cap, he held the flask to his lips and allowed the firewhiskey to flow in. His throat burned from the touch, but Albus could not help but enjoy the sensation the drink caused.

Having had enough of the drink, Albus returned the flask where it originally was and stood up from his desk. He spared no glance at the papers he was supposed to look over and returned to his quarters that was adjacent to his office. As he settled into bed, Albus found himself quickly falling asleep.

Suddenly, a melodic shrill resonated in the room.

Albus was immediately awoken and he jumped in fright from the abrupt noise. Immediately alert and awake, Albus grabbed his wand from his nightstand and held it in front of him, pointing at whomever was in the room. To his immense surprise, a bird coated in flames was at the foot of his bed, perching itself on its end. Strangely, the fires licked his sheets but failed to burn any of it. The flames dimmed, revealing the mixture of red, yellow, and orange feathers that the avian sported.

"A phoenix!" Albus cried out, recognizing his intruder for what it was.

Without warning, the phoenix swooped down upon him. Albus yelped in surprise as he found its claws sinking into his arm. For reasons unknown, Albus did not feel the pain he had expected from the claws it had. Before he had a chance to recover from the phoenix's sudden action, the room was basked in a bright, luminescent glow emanating from the phoenix. The light was a searing white and it soon engulfed Albus's entire being. With a final cry, the phoenix burst into flames and disappeared, taking Albus with him. Only a golden tail feather remained.

Albus found himself falling onto a stone floor. He groaned in pain as his chest made contact with the ground. However, as quickly as he fell, Albus recovered and pulled himself up. In a daze, Albus looked about his surroundings. He congratulated himself for having taken the initiative to put on his spectacles when the phoenix arrived, otherwise he would not have seen as clearly as he did. Unfortunately, Albus found himself in a dimly lit place. The only illuminated area that he could fully see was where he stood and a path that stopped several meters away.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore!"

Albus turned his head to whomever had called him and gasped in surprise as a man entered the light. A figure stood several feet away, grinning smugly at him with sharp eyes. He was robed in dark, rich clothing that gave the man an elegance that was associated with those in the upper classes. The man had long, blonde hair that fell slightly past his neck and was swept back. He sported a goatee, complementing his overall elegant presence. However, it was his eyes, blue as the sky above, that allowed Albus to recognize the man for who he was.

It was none other than Gellert Grindelwald.

"Gellert!" Albus shouted. "Where am I? What nefarious method have you concocted to force a creature of the light to do your bidding?"

"Nothing! The phoenix had summoned you on its own volition. Although, you can thank your brother for that!" Gellert replied, his smile remaining on his features. "As for where you are, allow me to enlighten you!"

With a snap of his fingers, the darkness of the area faded. Albus found himself in a room that was twice the size of the Great Hall. Surrounding him were several people donning cloaks that hid their identity. All of them were watching him with amused and curious looks. However, as he looked around more observantly, Albus saw that he and Gellert were separated by the spectators by a deep chasm that was filled with nothing but pitch black shadows. He soon noticed that on the field where he and Gellert stood was rectangular in shape and the two of them stood at the edge facing one another.

"As you can see, Albus, you are within my sanctum! Feel free and try to escape, but alas, you will find yourself unable to." Gellert informed him.

"I still do not understand why I am here, Gellert!" Albus cried out. His heart raced and fear was beginning to overtake him. As he stared into the man that had once been his friend, Albus could do nothing but remain immobile. He had never thought to see him once again. The fact that he was nothing like the boy he had met long ago further drove into his mind that the Gellert he knew was nothing more than a fabrication to manipulate him.

Gellert chuckled. "I thought you were smarter than that. Are you not a professor at your school, Albus?" He stepped forward and opened his arms, gesturing the entire area. "You have been summoned to duel me! You are to attempt what your brother failed to do!"

"Aberforth? Where is he? What have you done to him, Gellert?"

"Tut-tut." Gellert mocked with a sneer. "Surely you have heard that he was tracking me down to exact his revenge?"

Albus nodded.

"Well, he finally found me and challenged me to a duel." Gellert revealed his wand and pointed to the ceiling above the chasm behind him. A trap door opened and a cage was dropped. Within the cage was the battered form of Aberforth Dumbledore. Albus gasped at Aberforth's appearance. He was a far cry from the young man he had last seen. Though younger than Albus, Aberforth looked significantly older than what his true age would suggest. There were various cuts and bruises upon his body, fresh and still bleeding. His clothes were completely tattered and in ruins. "As you can see, Albus, your brother lost to me."

Filled with rage, Albus held up his wand and pointed it at Gellert. "YOU WILL RELEASE HIM AT ONCE!"

"Release him?" Gellert asked rhetorically. "A good idea!" With a wave of his wand, the cage began to fall quickly towards the dark chasm.

"NO!" Albus shouted in despair.

At Albus's cry, Gellert suddenly stopped the cage. Slowly, it began to bring it back up to its original position. Turning back to Albus, Gellert chuckled at his reaction. "Your foolish brother named you his second. I thought it was a riveting idea and allowed it. His phoenix – Fawkes, was it? - was asked by him to retrieve you. It had served its purpose well and brought you here. Now, with your defeat, I would stop all opposition impeding me on my path to a new world order!"

"I am but a schoolteacher, Gellert! Why involve me! How am I a threat to you?"

"Foolish, foolish Albus. You are not a threat. You're nothing more than an insect from my past that needs to be crushed. You hold no value but that of sentimentality."

Albus bristled at the callousness of his words and the cruelty he displayed towards Aberforth. Although his relationship with his brother was strained – Aberforth would forever resent him for his part in their sister's death – Albus would not allow anymore harm to come to Aberforth. He was the only family he had left and he would be damned if he allowed Gellert to take another member of his family away from him. Albus knew he should have stopped Aberforth years ago and what was now happening only further proved that he should have played an active role in deterring his brother. It was yet another failure to be added to his life.

"I will stop you, Gellert. I regret never stopping you on that day. I regret ever befriending you and allowing you to tempt me with your promises of power! You have brought me nothing but despair and shame, Gellert! You and your ways will end here!" Albus boldly proclaimed.

"You are no match for me, Albus! I have finally have true power in my hands! Remember those talks we had back then? How we were to quest for those three mystical items of power? I have finally found one of them! I have the Elder Wand in my grasp!" Gellert opened his sleeves and revealed the wand of legend that he now held. Albus's eyes nearly popped out of his sockets as he stared into the beautifully-carved wand. He can feel the immense power emanating from it. "Just give up, Albus. I promise your end will be swift if you do."

Albus knew he could not back down now. Internally, he trembled with fear at the sight of the wand that Gellert now possessed and the knowledge that Gellert would not hesitate to use any means to end him. The whole farce of a duel was nothing more than to stroke his very ego. In reality, Albus was unsure if he was even able to match Gellert's strength. Gellert's intimate knowledge of the Dark Arts gave him the edge. Still, regardless of the great might he held, Albus had to defeat him. Not because he had to save Europe from Gellert's clutches, but because his brother relied on him. Aberforth named him his second. Albus cannot disappoint him again.

"Gellert, are we here to talk or are we to duel?" The iciness of his tone was not lost on Gellert.

"Very well, Albus. Your death will be the final stepping stone of my complete triumph!"

Albus shook his head mournfully. "Your thinking is flawed, Gellert. You will never succeed. You will be stopped. If not by me, but by others!"

"This world is filled with nothing but sheep! These people who call themselves wizards and witches are nothing more than lapdogs waiting for a bone. They are all nothing but weak-minded fools who clung to those more powerful than them! It is because of this that I _will_ be successful. It is all for the Greater Good!"

"Enough talk! Let us end this, Gellert."

"Well said, Albus."

As etiquette dictated, Albus and Gellert bowed to one another. The battle had begun.


	19. Chapter XVIII

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: That intermission was important to the overall story. Remember, I don't write something needlessly! I kind of expected not a lot of people would respond to that chapter, but I understand. You're not reading this story for Dumbledore and his exploits. This tale is all about the wonderful duo that is Harry and Hermione! Overall, I think I took the right step into the right direction. I was very proud of this chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>From the End to the Start<strong>

**Chapter XVIII**

It had been days since her confrontation with Voldemort. The Killing Curse that erupted from the tip of her wand had struck the Dark Lord, extinguishing the life of one of history's greatest monsters. She still felt the cold sensation that surrounded her when the sickly green bolt of magic left her wand. It was if the darkness that came from the pit of her heart enshrouded her in a thick blanket, comforting her as she dealt the final blow to the one that dared to harm the boy she loved. Thus, when his body crumpled to the hard ground below him, the world was met with silence and those that witnessed it were left in sheer awe. Followed by the silence was the cheers of joy as they all rushed to her with glee. In the confusion, Bellatrix Lestrange escaped.

When the aurors clamored for her, when the Order of the Phoenix whooped for her, Hermione felt nothing but unbridled contempt for them. They had forgotten that Harry was at her feet, dead. She wanted to kill them all then and there, to bring out that soothing darkness again and strike the idiots that dared to celebrate Harry's death. But she did nothing. She could do nothing. Hermione was swept up in the events that followed.

The next day, news of Voldemort's defeat made headlines. The _Daily Prophet _had a photograph of her casting the curse that defeated the vilest Dark Lord since Gellert Grindelwald. The newspaper that insulted her and Harry now celebrated her victory and Harry's supposed sacrifice. They heralded her a hero and had taken to believing she was to be the next Albus Dumbledore. Meanwhile, they lamented how the Chosen One fought heroically for his love, giving herself a chance to defeat Voldemort once and for all. Hermione wondered how they had obtained a photograph of the battle, but she didn't really care.

Following Voldemort's defeat, Hermione left her home. Her parents had been understanding when she confessed to them that she had used a spell against them, but the guilt was too much and she left. Arthur and Molly offered the Burrow as a sanctuary, but she declined the invitation. Instead, she agreed to Dumbledore's arrangement and had taken up residence to the empty castle. She spent most of her days reading or watching the scenery outside. Ron and Ginny sent letters to her often and also asked to visit, but she refused. Hermione didn't want them near her.

Surprisingly, it was Arthur Weasley and not Amelia Bones or Rufus Scrimgeour that became the Minister of Magic. The red-haired Weasley patriarch gracefully accepted the title and his first action had been to lambaste the previous administration for their corrupted practices and failure as a government to provide relief to their citizens. Hermione imagined that Arthur meant the Ministry's treatment towards Harry. She later learned that Dolores Umbridge had immediately been dismissed several hours into Arthur's tenure.

Things were... well.

"Miss Granger?"

From behind her, Hermione heard the soft, grandfatherly inquiry of the Headmaster. She closed the book she had been reading, folding the corner of the page as a reminder as to where she left off. The climatic finale of Dumbledore's duel with Grindelwald would have to wait for another time. Hermione placed the book within her bag and stood up from her spot in the grand library of Hogwarts. A few steps away was Dumbledore, patiently waiting as Hermione collected herself.

Seeing that she was finished, Dumbledore turned and began walking away, gesturing for Hermione to follow. She silently complied, hastening her stride so that they may walk side by side. Their footsteps echoed in the corridors; the castle was barren, no longer filled with the riotous children eager to learn or socialize. Hermione basked in the memories of a much more peaceful time, a time when there was no evil plaguing her life at every turn. It felt like a lifetime ago when she had been able to enjoy herself in the company of friends.

"How are you, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked her, breaking the silence between them.

Hermione sought his eyes, briefly glimpsing the twinkling blue behind his spectacles. She gave the old wizard a non-committal shrug, summarizing her mood in one movement. "I am alright, Headmaster."

From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw his lips curve into a frown. She looked away, not at all caring for the emotional state of Albus Dumbledore.

"You are a hero." Dumbledore told her. "You defeated Lord Voldemort."

"Headmaster," Hermione smiled, but no trace of humor was within the expression. "You, more than anyone, should know that he is not defeated yet. I merely destroyed his physical body."

"But in the eyes of the general public, my dear, you have defeated one of the darkest wizards ever to have lived." Dumbledore stated calmly in rebuttal. "The ramifications of his body's destruction has catapulted the reputation of muggle-borns into that of great respect in the eyes of most Pure-bloods. You are even considered a legend amongst the community of not only Europe's magical society, but of all magical folks in other continents."

"Yes, that may be true, Headmaster, but at what cost?" Hermione asked him in a hushed tone. "I watched Harry die in front of me. You should understand how I feel more than anyone."

Hermione's statement silenced Dumbledore. No more words were traded between them. It was not long before they ascended the steps that led to Dumbledore's office. Upon arrival, Hermione and the Headmaster was greeted by several familiar individuals from the Order. Arthur Weasley stood next to Dumbledore's desk, fidgeting over his robes slightly. A bit away from him, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mad-Eye Moody were in the middle of a conversation.

"Good evening, Minister." Albus greeted, politely nodding at Arthur.

Arthur blushed. "Albus, no need for that! I may be Minister of Magic, but I'm still the same old Arthur!"

"Minister, you deserve all of my respect and not just because of your new position. It has been coming for your years and I implore you to allow me to show you such courtesies."

"Then, do you prefer I address you as Chief Warlock or do you believe Supreme Mugwump would be better?" Arthur smirked slyly at the older wizard. It was clear where Fred and George inherited their mischievous nature from.

Dumbledore laughed. "Touché."

"Can we begin or what?" Moody gruffly asked. His remaining foot was tapping impatiently at the floor.

"Of course, Alastor. Let me just conjure up a few seats here..." Dumbledore trailed off and pulled out his wand. With a twinkling smile, the once-Transfiguration professor created two additional chairs next to two original ones. He gestured for all of them to sit.

Hermione took one of the seats in the middle between Arthur and Kingsley. Moody took the seat at the far right which Hermione had hoped. As much as she respected the veteran Auror, his rough mannerisms and ever-spinning magical eye always brought her some discomfort. Dumbledore took his seat at his desk, vanishing several pieces of parchments into places unknown.

"Now we can begin." The Headmaster placed his wand down in front of him and tented his fingers.

"Albus, what is _she _doing here?" Moody bluntly inquired, pointing at Hermione with his thumb. "Sure, she may have killed off You-Know-Who and all, but what a load of good will she be in our little get-together, eh?"

Though they didn't say anything, Hermione could sense that Arthur and Kingsley had the same question. She moved to speak, but Dumbledore replied first.

"Because the matter which I wish to speak of wholly involves Miss Granger and I feel that her opinions is tantamount to the discussion. Does that answer your question, Alastor?" Dumbledore slightly bowed his head and glanced at Moody, staring at him like he would with a student.

Moody growled and nodded. At Dumbledore's reasoning, Arthur and Kingsley visibly relaxed and patiently awaited for the meeting to continue on. Hermione remained silent as ever. She was not insulted that the three older men questioned her presence. Hermione, herself, felt it odd that Dumbledore wanted her to sit in. She had an idea what Dumbledore wished to speak of, but she had nothing concrete.

"Allow me to be blunt. Despite the valiant efforts of Miss Granger and young Harry, I regret to inform you all that the Dark Lord has yet to be completely vanquished."

The three wizards were stunned. Immediately, Moody shot up from his seat and pounded his fist against Dumbledore's desk. The impact toppled over a figurine resting on the desk's surface and broke Arthur and Kingsley from their stupor.

"What do you mean You-Know-Who isn't dead?" Moody half-yelled and half-asked. "I was there when the little missy gave him the ol' Killing Curse! He was dead as dead can be!"

"Alastor is right, Albus! I led the detachment of aurors that brought back the corpse. The department ran the autopsy and we concluded the Dark Lord is dead!"

Arthur frowned, a little jittery at the news. Hermione smiled at him sympathetically, knowing full well that any news that Voldemort may not be dead would cause anyone to worry. Speaking for the first time since the meeting began, Hermione said, "Voldemort had Horcruxes. He split his soul several times so that he can achieve what he believes is immortality."

Though the volume of her voice was low and soft, her weighted words silenced the vocal denials of Moody and Kingsley.

Moody looked from Hermione and then to Dumbledore, his fist shaking. "Is this true, Albus? Did the Dark Lord create such abominations?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely.

"DAMN IT!" Moody roared and took the figurine from Dumbledore's desk. The calm yet paranoid Moody lost control of his anger and threw it against the wall, shattering it.

"Albus," Arthur began, breaking the tense quiet between all of them. "what exactly is a Horcrux?"

Kingsley nodded. "I find myself curious to what it is as well. Hermione mentioned that it is apparently the key to You-Know-Who's immortality. I shudder to think of such a monster being... immortal."

Instead of Dumbledore that answered, it was Hermione. She was the only one that remained sitting, the rest having had stood up at some point. Her hands were in her lap as she gazed at nothing in particular with an aloof expression. "Voldemort," Arthur and Kingsley flinched. "is not immortal. I believe I have proven that with my casting of the Killing Curse." Her eyes turned sharp and deadly. "The Horcruxes merely anchors his soul to the realm of the living, placing him in a permanent state of un-death. As of now, he has lost his physical form and will seek a means to have a new body. He did so before, having been revived at the end of my Fourth Year with the help of Peter Pettigrew. I can only imagine that he plans to seek out one of his more loyal followers to help him with this monumental task."

"Lestrange!" Moody voiced. "She escaped our grasp and the Dark Lord would no doubt use her! We need to destroy these Horcruxes before he could do anything!"

"I have already destroyed several with the help of Severus."

All eyes turned to Dumbledore. Hermione seethed inside, the name of the Potions master generated an intense flame that raged within her.

"Miss Granger, I have told you that Severus was not the traitor." Dumbledore stated with an exasperated sight. "It was Peter Pettigrew that had hid within your home to monitor your activities. It was unfortunate that he had been there when he witnessed us putting up the wards."

"How very convenient of him, isn't it?" Hermione sarcastically asked. "If you can't blame the snake, blame the rat instead."

Dumbledore frowned disapprovingly. "Miss Granger, I have repeated it many times. Whether you choose to believe it or not is up to you. I trust Severus explicitly. I have no doubts that he is the one that betrayed us." Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Dumbledore deftly interrupted her. "Now back to the matter of the Horcruxes. Like I said, I already destroyed several. From what information I gathered, there remains only two left. Miss Granger, if you will?"

Hermione grimaced. Nevertheless, she elaborated further, "The remaining Horcruxes that Voldemort has left are Hufflepuff's Cup and Nagini. However, the whereabouts of both is still shrouded in mystery."

"Albus, how does Hermione know all this?" Arthur curiously asked. "This seems like very dangerous things to know."

"Miss Granger has her secrets and is it up to her whether or not she wants to inform you of them." Albus answered sternly, leaving no room to be said otherwise.

_As if you respected my privacy when you told Snape._ Hermione angrily thought. _I want to leave._

"What do you want us to do then, Albus?" Kingsley inquired. "Do you want us to help you search for the remaining two?"

A terrible smile filled Moody's face. "I wouldn't mind helping you, Albus. This seems like you need me to lead an operation like this. Reminds me of my younger years, heh-heh."

Dumbledore smiled but waved his hand dismissively. "No, I am merely informing you three what to expect. The public believes that Tom is dead, but we all know that the threat of the Death Eaters is still at large. I think it is time we finally set in motion what I should have done several years ago."

Moody's one eye widened. "Albus, you don't mean..."

"Yes, Moody, it is time. We must begin a purge of Death Eaters within the Ministry. Their ideas and corruption have nearly brought the world we know to destruction. For years I have withheld my hand because I feared that our efforts would be trumped by the Death Eaters and their supports. But..." His blue eyes gently glazed over Hermione's form. "I see now that leaving it as it is now will only lead to consequences too terrible to imagine."

"Albus, is that why you personally nominated me for the seat of Minister?" Arthur asked in disbelief.

A jovial chuckle erupted from Dumbledore's mouth as he nodded. "You are a good man, Arthur. I know for a fact how good you actually are at the game of politics."

"Headmaster, if I may, may I be excused?" Hermione suddenly stood up and asked. "While this talk is interesting, I think I have no further use in the conversation. And I would like to..." She left her request unfinished.

The Headmaster glanced at her sympathetically and nodded. "Yes, you have done enough for us. I'm sorry for taking a portion of your time."

At one point in her life, Hermione would have been eager to attend such a vibrant discussion that the four wizards were having. She wanted to revolutionize the Ministry, putting forth her own ideas in order to create a better world for those that lived within the realm. Hermione realized that the meeting was the Headmaster's attempt to cheer her up. However, she had already moved on from such a lofty ambition. The drive that she burned within her to set about great changes to the new world she was brought to had faded away. She was now left with nothing but the taste of bitterness in her mouth over believing she could do something.

Hermione shut the door behind her and began her descent of the spiral stairs.

She was able to arrive on the ground floor with good time, having remembered some of the shortcuts there were to different areas. Hermione walked at a brisk pace to the hospital wing, taking long, quick strides to arrive there faster. She pushed open the door and passed through the threshold, her goal in sight. Hermione arrived at the private room attached at the far end of the wing. She entered it without hesitation.

Sitting on the bed with his legs drawn up to his chest was Harry dressed in a pair of pajamas. His hair was messier than usual. His figure had grown far thinner than before and his skin was a tad bit paler than his usual fair complexion. He didn't say a word to her to acknowledge her presence and remained staring at the window that was at the foot of his bed. Hermione smiled nevertheless and took a seat on the chair close to the bed.

"Look, Harry." Hermione unveiled a book that was in her hands. "I got you _The_ _Tales of Beedle the Bard _to read! We never got to enjoy it. Since, after all, we were stressed from all that Horcrux hunting. I wanted to sit down one day and actually read some of it instead of poring over it like it was extensive research material." She chuckled habitually, but it held no mirth within it.

"Honestly, what was Dumbledore thinking when he gave me this." Hermione clicked her tongue. "I mean, it would have been better if he just gave me notes to work off of instead. But nope, he had to be very cryptic over it. He can be such a sodding git, don't you think?"

Harry gave no answer.

Hermione's smile faltered for a bit but continued. "Still, I suppose he has his good points. He's talking about revolutionizing the Ministry with Mr. Weasley, Kingsley, and Moody. I don't know why he wanted me to be there. I suppose he just assumed I would enjoy it. I mean, I would rather not but..."

Her voice became lost in her throat as she let out a strained sob. The charade was over. Harry may be alive, but his mind was gone.

His green eyes empty, no longer filled with the love he had for her.

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: And that concludes with this chapter. I like to think I made things a little bit more different than the normal time-travel pieces. To answer some questions, Snape was never the traitor. The truth was that Peter Pettigrew had been monitoring Hermione in his rat form. After all, it was only natural for Voldemort to keep an eye out on Harry's friends as well. This is something I would go more into detail later, but I'm sure a lot of people would be dying to ask the question anyway. Hermione just refuses to believe it because she now hates Snape as much as Harry does.

We also have Dumbledore not actually be a manipulative and evil git! How remarkably different! While I can understand a lot of readers not really liking him, I think I understand his motivations a little bit. I think he is a man that is willing to learn from mistakes if presented correctly. Hermione's presence allows him to glimpse into what the future can be and is now moving to take a much more active approach. Sure, he still wants to be in the background, but he is playing a more forceful hand.

However, there is more to that meeting than just a simple discussion about how to change government. More on that later on! Anyway, I hoped you liked this chapter. It's too bad that Harry is now just as catatonic as Neville's parents, but I promise he will get better... eventually.


End file.
